The Passenger
by XrhiaX
Summary: Full Summary Inside. Warning; Prologue is Rated M. The rest is down to a T. Chapter 13: At Chameleon Bay, Sokka must explain to his father the delicate situation Katara is in. Azula comes across an interesting piece of correspondence.
1. Prologue

Author's note: I don't really have a full summary for this. This first chapter is M-rated. You have been warned. I know most people put it at the highest rating they can, but that's not clever. I'll tell you why I rated something that's wholly-M-rated right now as a T. Because, my friends, when you click your little 'Bookmarks' thing for Avatar Fanfiction (I have one), it only shows T rated and lower! So. This is rated at a T, because it will be a T-rated through and through except when otherwise stated. This chapter is the only M for a fair while. Not age-appropriate, I get it, but whatever, we've all had this fantasy.

What? You haven't? Okay, here's the plot. Italics is spoilers. Don't read if you don't want any.

_(I had a dream, where Katara … was pregnant. Nobody else had that idea? No? I'm ashamed of you, Zutarians, not even once did you think of it? Tsk-tsk-tsk, well, now you'll have to, won't you just? This begins between 'The Waterbending Scroll' and 'Jet', which is the next episode. Also, this will be my opportunity to fix up things I think coulda been done better in the series. The idea is, Katara and Zuko had sexytiems in Season 1, she's preggers through Season 2, and she has a baby in Season 3, you see? I just kinda wanna see if it'll work! Also, with the 'Jet' episode so close, how hard will it be for Katara to lie about the baby-daddy? Yeah, I think you guys know…)_

Okay, so, anyway, if you don't read anything 18+ rated, don't read this chapter, wait for the next.

I repeat! In reading the following you waive the right to complain or report this for being 18+ and otherwise rated, because you have been warned.

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><p><strong>Katara<strong>

Nobody has ever, ever called me rash, immature, indecisive, foolish, or any other name to indicate I might be of unsound mind and foolish decisions. Nobody has ever told me I was gullible, or easily manipulated, or easily fooled, or just plain un-savvy, so I have no reason to think I can blame anyone else for what I did. Or what he did. What we did. Damn, I don't know who did what at this point, I just feel like an idiot. There was a full moon in the sky, that much I do know.

It was sunset when I left camp, heading for the river we'd flown over on our way to our latest destination. We'd all eaten and Sokka and Aang ad gone to sleep early, deciding to wake up early and get a move on toward the North Pole. There was a thick copse of trees around our small clearing of a campsite, at the time I thought it was just the way the trees had bunched in accordance to the clearing, but as I walked toward the sound of running water, I realized the forest was just simply that dense.

The water was calling me, as it does during the full moon. It beckoned to me, and I didn't hesitate to give into temptation. As far as I knew, the Fire Nation forces on our heels were pushed back, delayed by our last scuffle, and we would be safe at least until morning, at which point we'd be moving on anyway. There was no air of selfishness to this temptation; I wasn't going in spite of any perils there may have been around me. The forest was sweet-smelling and more than safe enough to waste a little time.

When I stepped out of the trees, the clear water ran in a wide, slow-flowing river before me. I wasn't a particularly skilled waterbender at this point, but I could feel the chi flowing in the river. The moon and ocean were like a second set of parents to me, and I somewhat pity that Sokka is unable to feel it as I do. I understand that he can, to some extent - in the water tribes we are always one with our element, whether we possess the power to bend it or not - but I still wish he could feel its energy pooling; its life beating a steady rhythm with the earth.

I was lost in thought for a brief moment before I grabbed the white knot on my hip and pulled its loose end, bringing it to unfurl and dangle at the sides of my legs. I unwrapped the long tunic from around myself and allowed it to fall off my arms, to the floor, immediately moving to the dull periwinkle undershirt beneath the tunic. When the undershirt fell open, I peeled my thick hide shoes off with my toes and slid my thumbs between my hips and the waistband of my leggings.

The leggings came away like a snake shedding its outer skin, and I dropped them on the growing pile of my clothes, my hands going up to my hair where they expertly undid the fastenings of my traditional hairstyle. As the braid unfurled down my back, the ends tickled at the bare skin between the bottom of my undershirt and my lower underwrappings. The loops I cared not to undo, because they were the hardest to set right again, but I unclipped the ends and the bun immediately came undone as a result.

Only then, stood in nothing by my undergarments and a long-sleeved, open undershirt did I realize there was a lapping of water other than just the rippling over the pebbled sand of the riverbed. Silence fell around me, like someone who's just realized they're surrounded by enemy troops. Uninhibited I had been in undressing before checking I was alone, or a smarter man might've called it stupid. I think I'll stick with stupid.

Then I caught sight of someone crouched on their haunches by the water, a little further upstream, with their back to me, on the same side of the water as I was. I stiffened at the red of their trousers, confused by the bareness of the back turned to me. It was a man, muscular in build, and undeniably Fire Nation by his trousers. Then I caught sight of the raven ponytail on the man's back, and the red pigment on the ear I could see over his shoulder. I caught a flash of his cheek as he turned to the sound of my breathing.

I knew he was there before he knew I was; that gave me the advantage. And I was still angry; I remembered Zuko had my necklace, after that shenanigan with the pirates and the waterbending scroll. At this point I sincerely hoped I'd learnt something from said scroll, as I ran for the water and he leapt to his feet. My hands took the water and guided it toward the prince, who was undeniably caught off his guard, crouching to give his face a splash of cool water. If he wanted to splash his face, I'd splash it for him.

Somehow my bending knocked him to the tree his hand had been wrapped around as he crouched, to keep him from falling into the water, and with some effort I managed to freeze him to it. I thought back to the incident a few days ago at that neutral port, and the pirates, and his having tied me to a tree, and imagined my revenge. I doubted it would take long for him to melt the ice on him, so I drew up some more water and thickened the restraints on him.

"Release me before something undesirable happens to you, water peasant," he snarled under his breath, his ponytail wet and sticking to one of his muscular shoulders. Wait, what? Did I just call it that? I did, I just called him muscular! Oh, gods! I distracted myself with replying to his demand. Distracting myself made me momentarily lose concentration on him and the melting ice.

Before I could've even had the chance to release him, he'd gotten through the ice with a single breath. I cursed my own inexperienced bending and took an involuntary step back. I wanted to spit out a swearing curse at this moment, but in said moment, I was more preoccupied with failing at holding my ground. I heard myself give a disgruntled gasp, though I knew I hadn't initiated it.

Only now did I realize that on my own, I was unable to handle Zuko. Aang could, with his Airbending - he was a master, wasn't he? - And Sokka, in hand-to-hand combat or even swordplay, could give the prince a run for his money, but I was a terribly inexperienced waterbender, and not a particularly fast runner to boot. Besides, even If I could run, where would I go; back to camp? I'd lead him straight to Aang.

As if realizing this - that the Avatar was of course, nearby - his eyes (golden eyes) opened wide and then he frowned in determination. "The Avatar. Where is he?" he yelled at me, his eyes shifting to the woods, but then he realized he hadn't even heard me approaching him, and had most certainly not seen where I'd come from in the forest. He moved to the forest and I spoke, finding my voice.

"You'll never find him in the forest. You'll wander around in circles until you can't even find your way back here," I reached out for the water, knowing I was a useless bender, but unwilling to let the enemy know I knew that. I drew out a sliver, desperately hoping I could get a waterwhip right again, setting my feet apart to keep my footing firm.

Zuko took a step toward me and my water snapped out in the air, as if warning him not to come closer. He growled out angrily - viciously. "The Avatar is _mine, _peasant," he seethed, holding his hands out at his sides, balls of flame forming in his evil Fire Nation clutches.

"The necklace you _stole, _is _mine. _I want that too, but I don't think I'm getting it back any time soon," I retorted, before I even knew the words had formed in my head. I cursed myself, because as a result of these words, I had to dodge the fireball he threw at me. Said fireball nearly trimmed my hair for me, as I swept myself aside to get out of its path. I gave a yelp and swiped the water across me, not seeing but guessing he would throw his next.

The water absorbed the heat of the fireball, so I guess it partially did its job, but I imagine now that if my bending had been stronger, a lot could've been different. The impact of the blast wasn't in any way stifled by my weak shield, and it threw me back so hard my bare feet left the ground. Only then did I remember I was almost naked, just as my back collided with a tree, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I gave a grunt and tried to maintain some kind of composure, but he stalked - like royalty, the stupid prince he was - toward me, and trapped me against the pine, both hands on my shoulders, pushing my back against the spiny tree.

He leant down with a scowl on his face. "I've told you before why I need the Avatar-," he tried his best to be reasonable, but I cut him off.

"Get the hell off me, Fire Nation scum!" I grabbed for his arms to get them off me, avoiding eye contact with him. He caught one of my wrists in a tight fist, the other slightly further up on my other wrist, his thumb in my palm, as my arms swiped at him angrily. I hated this situation; cornered again by that stupid, idiotic, muscular, steamy- wait, what? Did I just-

Zuko cut of my train of thought in half when his eyes fell downward, widening, as he realized just what compromising position he had me trapped in. Then my eyes widened and I realized it too. Here I was with everything on display, trapped against a tree with my hands over my head by a boy relatively my own age, shirtless and muscular and … I cursed myself as a blush rose on my cheeks and I shut my mouth - which had been quite open and ready to spit at him - unable to take my eyes off his, horror and awkwardness hitched in every thought in my head.

The most unexpected thing then happened. Zuko, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Ozai's firstborn son, with bright golden eyes and milky porcelain skin and the topknot of exiled royalty, the same guy who came to the south pole ready to sift through all the old folks to find the Avatar, who tied me to a tree and baited me with my necklace, and all the rest … _blushed. _I'm freaking serious; he blushed! Sure, I mean, I was practically naked in front of him, any normal guy _would _blush at that, but this guy wasn't _normal, _he was the enemy!

Enemies didn't blush! Or … smirk at the way _you _blushed. Or … or make you realize that you were blushing just the same. Oh, _hell, _no.

His thumb moved somewhat in my palm, and something like excitement jerked to life in my stomach. Later I would say I suddenly felt like puking, but that wasn't it. The sun had fallen beneath the earth and the moon was already in the sky, full and bright, as it darkened. A mixture of orange skylight and white moonlight glowed on the unscarred side of his face, as it did on one side of mine. My lips became dry as the excitement in my stomach found its way deeper. _Down._

I was young, naïve, and poorly informed of the changes a teenaged girl's body might come up against during an encounter with a half-naked prince. I should've known more; I should've asked Gran-Gran more, but it was too weird, and I was still young. By the gods, I was fourteen, for the sake of the moon! The youngest of the mothers in our tribe were at least fifteen before they were promised to their husbands, and sixteen before they had their first children. I imagine at my fifteenth birthday someone might have sat me down to explain these things to me, but at this point, I didn't know. I didn't know why there was a jolt of strange pleasure and heat and wetness between my legs.

What I knew was that Zuko knew what was happening to me.

He was a firebender, trained to sense changes in temperature, trained to sense changes in breathing patterns. He _knew. _Zuko knew, and he smirked at me. I felt my face drop; whether it was in embarrassment, or fear, or shame, I'll never know. The blush on his face seemed inconsequential now, because he had the upper hand, and I wanted something I didn't even know I wanted. Other than just his firebending making him wise to my body's betrayal of my mind, I was sure he was nowhere near as inexperienced as I was.

The next thing he said only added to my discomfort, alongside adding to my strange new excitement. He leaned - slowly and sadistically - toward me, until his lips were close enough to my ear for his breath to tickle me. He whispered then, in a raspy voice; "For me?" and he chuckled, once, into my ear.

I whimpered, of this I'm sure, but it wasn't in fear or pain. I ached to take one of my hands from him to probe at the tingle between my legs. Something needed to be done about it; whether to needed to be thwarted before it became too serious, or humored to the extent of its need, I knew not, but something needed to be done about it. The concept of him being the one to _do something about it _wasn't yet in my head. I imagine my facial expression was one of a person watching their china cabinet coming down and wondering what to save.

But Zuko! Of all people, _Zuko _had to be the one to awaken this! I cursed the spirits many times over after that night for that, but in the moment I was lost in thoughts of sex and sweat and - undeniably - Zuko. And he was just leaning over me, trapping me against the tree and watching me shift my bare feet on the ground, clenching one thigh to the other in a frustrating effort to satisfy a need I didn't fully understand. If he'd wanted, I'm sure he could've gotten me to beg him to help me.

I was no longer looking in his eyes, his head beside my head and his lips to my ear, taunting me. Even though I hadn't voice the need to free my hand, he free one of them. I shut my eyes helplessly as I carelessly began to move my hand downward, unable to stop myself. He swatted my hand away, though. At this I opened my eyes again and turned my head to look at him. He met me with a strange look I couldn't decipher. His expression was a mixture of control and indecision, but frustration was definitely part of it. I wondered if his frustration was worse than mine.

Then with a both horrified and indulgent expression on my face did I realize he meant to do with his own hand what I had meant to do with mine. The same hand that had thrown a fireball at me just seconds - minutes it had been in reality - ago, slid between my skin and my undershirt, one thumb just lightly brushing against the underside of a wrapped breast. I tilted my head back as best I could, unsure of what else to do, that hand he'd just freed going back to the tree and clasping on the bark in some hope for steadiness.

The hand in the undershirt slid across dry, tanned skin, and then down my stomach, over the toned muscles of my body, until they came down to the waist of my lower wrappings. I thought for a moment he was going to either slid his hand beneath them or begin to unwrap them, but instead his hand continued down, until it stopped with his fingers placed on the spot where one of my thighs was clenched to the other. At this point I didn't know if either of us would be able to speak, or if it would wake us both up to what was going on. It seemed that body language was the only way we'd be able to communicate past this very sensitive moment.

His hand slid between my legs and gently nudged them apart. I complied, but I didn't _spread. _Not the way the Fire Nation soldiers said our women did - '_Water Tribe Sluts spread so wide they make the Earth Kingdom look the size of Ember Island'. _I frowned with my head tilted up. Zuko was Fire Nation, the Fire Nation's _prince, _the heir to the throne. I bit my lip.

Up until now he had called me peasant, and waterbender, but he hadn't gone so far as to use the term his crew probably knew me by; _Water Tribe Slut. _Somehow I became wrapped up in the wonder of why the Fire Nation called our women such a thing, and I came to the conclusion that many raids happened with men away at war, and that left our girls unprotected against rape. How dare they call them such a thing after-

I yelped as his fingers found their way - above the wrappings - to the place where my heat was growing, that idea of Fire Nation soldiers raping Water Tribe women still in my mind. Was Zuko raping me? I thought on this for a moment, as his fingers slid beneath me - a feeling so good I moved against it, urging him to do more. No, he couldn't have been, because this felt amazing. It was scary, admittedly, but I knew that if I shied away now, that he would let me. I was _letting_ him touch me in the most intimate of ways. This was what I would ponder on the most for the next few weeks.

But then his hand froze under my heat, and the mild pleasure I'd been deriving from it stopped too.

"Mmm-," I broke off, meaning to say a word that was forgotten now, because his head had come back into my vision again. This time his confidence, the way he had been toying with me before, was gone, or at least less. This time, his golden eyes were searching mine for something. I brought my chin down to look into his eyes, trying to figure out what it was he wanted from me, why he had stopped. He obviously wanted this as badly as I did, so what was stopping him?

Then I realized his eyes were asking for _permission. _For _consent. _For the all-out _go-ahead._

I let go of the tree with my free hand and lifted it timidly, until my fingertips touched his muscular chest. I blinked slowly, tipping my head down in a soft kind of nod.

He let go of my other hand, and brought a once-ruthless hand against the moonlit side of my face, cupping it. He leant down toward me and then touched his lips to mine. The very first kiss was soft and chaste, and then the next was more hungry and lustful, acting on the wetness of my core and what pressed against the flat expanse of underwrappings as he leant into me - a hard, stiff muscle I had forgotten that Zuko might have had. I had in fact forgotten, at one point, that he was a boy, and merely seen him as an enemy; without a dick.

It wasn't hard to imagine Zuko on top of me by the way his tongue danced in my mouth. By god; my first kiss and my first time with a man all in one neat little package. My brother would've choked on his own breath and died. The prince seemed somewhat unsettled, but his own growing need seemed to grow to challenge mine, trumping any second thoughts he might've had in his mind. At the time I was glad for this.

With one hand pressed against Zuko's chest, my other arm found its way under his and my hand found his back, my fingernails unwittingly scratching on his back. He didn't react in any kind of pain, but he gave a kind of grunt into my mouth that I dubbed to be the hunger that had grown deep down in both of us. He pulled away, but pulled me with him, away from the tree my back was pressed against, and took my open undershirt by the shoulders, sliding it back down my arms until it fell to the floor behind me. Unable to stop myself, I grabbed the waist of my own underwrappings impatiently.

At this point we were no longer linked at the lips, just staring into one another's eyes unsurely. At the sight of me working at my wrappings, he snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me close, his fingers working behind my wrappings, undoing them remarkably fast. I hugged onto him as he did this, my head tilted up to rest on his shoulder, nervousness finding its way into my mind. I was going to be bad at this, I was going to disappoint him, and I would regret this later - those were my worries, but they faded as soon as my wrappings came away and slid down my legs, collecting at my feet.

I was glad in the moment for my face being able to hide in the crook between his shoulder and chest, because now I was nearly completely bare, perhaps as naked as I needed to be, and his own throbbing need was pressed to the bare skin between my belly button and where my pubic hair began. I stepped out of the wrappings at my feet and kicked them aside, pulling my face out of the crook of his chest to look him in the eyes again, only to feel his lips on mine once more.

Experimentally, I tried moving my own tongue in his mouth, and by the small whimper that he made, this was good. He stepped backward again, and I followed him, not even aware he was untangling the knot at the back of my upper wrappings as we moved. I reached up and wrapped my arm around his neck, bringing him in closer, hungry for his kiss. I could tell already that he was better at this than I was, by the way his tongue flickered in my mouth, neither lazily or over-enthusiastically, by the expert way one hand entangled in my hair as the other worked at my underwear.

I'd have thought the idea of having my first time with a man who'd been with a woman before would bother me, but it didn't; it just meant less talking had to take place because he already knew what it was that I wanted, even if I didn't. To be with another inexperienced boy might've been horrible; to have to explain what it was she needed? Spirits forbid. The wordless communication we used during this amazing conversation was working wonders for what we both needed.

Zuko was taller than me, by about five or six inches, and if I'd wanted to kiss him without his participation, I'd have had to get on my tiptoes. As for the moment, he was participating rather enthusiastically, and that wasn't an issue. My lips parted and some air found its way into the kiss as I gasped, a result of my upper wrappings coming away in one, wide, single ribbon that slithered its way to the floor behind me.

Naked and suddenly aware of the fact that I was, I pulled away from Zuko and stepped back, letting go of him and pulling my hands back to myself, awoken to the harsh realization of what we were both planning to do. My eyes widened, staring into his and searching for something to make me keep going. I was still hungry for him, but now, stood naked before him with the sun long forgotten beneath the horizon and the moon high in the sky, shining down on my bare chest, panting pensively, I understood just what this would be. It would be a one-time thing, and we would both never mention it to anyone, and we would both try to deny to even ourselves that it had ever happened.

Or it would be something he would whip out in front of my brother a few miles down the line, just to fuck me over, when I next refused to lead him to Aang. All the ways this could go wrong were suddenly apparent to me and I took another bewildered step backwards, toward my wrappings, missing their cover. I hadn't bothered to try to cover myself with my hands; there would be no point. He'd already seen me naked, there was no denying it. By fuck - and I never swear - here I was ready to willingly give up my virginity to a man on the other side of the war my best friend was supposed to end.

"Wait," Zuko rasped, reaching out and catching one of my hands as I moved backward, the first word in a long spell of silence.

I stopped where I was and stared at him, terrified and bewildered and enchanted at once, unable to find the will to take my hand from him. The truth was that I didn't dislike the feeling of his hand on mine. I hadn't disliked the feeling of his lips on mine, or the feeling of his hand teasing with the wet heat between my legs. I remembered how a few minutes ago I'd had the upper hand on him, and how he'd then had the upper hand on me, and then how we'd had our hands all over one another. Kind of ironic, almost humorous, in a way, except now laughing was the last thing on my mind.

Spirits, here I was completely naked, unable to think through my next actions. I urged my own mind to think faster, though it was impossible. Almost a mile away, it felt, Zuko was holding my hand, an extremely hard and large lump making itself apparent in the fabric of his trousers. As if that wasn't persistently tempting enough, he was very shirtless and muscular … _'I mean come on, have you seen the guy? He's like a walking aphrodisiac!' _as someone would say to me many months, perhaps even years, after this encounter.

"Take off your pants," I lifted a hand - the one that wasn't in his - and pinched the bridge of my nose.

He drew his head back as if he were offended. "What?"

"I said take off your pants, Prince Zuko," and I stalked toward him proudly, naked as I was, letting go of his hand. "Before I change my mind," I cooed, pressing my bare skin against his, and looking up to him demandingly.

**Zuko**

I stared at her, horrified at her tone of voice. _"What?" _My mind had found a way to control my mouth without my consent. She rolled her eyes and let go of my hand, moving toward me until she was pressed up against me, her nipples hard against my bare chest, causing me to shiver against my own will.

Her lips parted and her voice came out even and sultry. "I said _take off your pants, _Prince Zuko." She repeated for me, tilting her chin up and watching me with half-lidded blue eyes the color of the ocean. "Before I change my mind," she added in the same tone, her eyes narrowing somewhat. By the tiny smirk she gave at the expression on my face told me she was going to mess with me. I was going to tell her to wipe that look off her face, but then I decided if I wanted to get laid, it would be best to just let her do what she wanted. Even a prince must follow that golden rule.

My right eye narrowed at her, and to a lesser extent, my left, but I roughly grabbed the waistband of my own trousers and began to push them, and my underwear, down toward my knees. As soon as I was distracted by taking my trousers off, in my peripheral vision I caught that unease she had harbored seconds ago, as I leant down to pull the trousers off my ankles and toss them to the scattered clothes on the ground around is.

Her unease was disconcerting. I knew later that I would wonder if she regretted this, and when I came to a conclusion, I'd regret it too. Here we were naked, against each other, when back on my ship I had the necklace carved for her by her betrothed. I hadn't believed the tales of the Water Tribe women being the wanton, unchaste sluts my crew had always made them out to be, even the waterbender before me, but now I began to wonder. Here she was with me when her fiancé, or husband, or whatever, was fighting against my nation's soldiers at sea.

She swallowed, reminding me of that small amount of anxiety behind her thin shield of faux confidence. The sultry sway and the sexy voice she put on would only take her so far, and I wondered if it would be wise to tell her so, but I resolved against it. I leant down and gave her another small kiss on the lips, a simple peck; she was a lot less experienced than she was pretending to be, I supposed - unsure what to do with a man she _hadn't _known since birth.

I slid one arm behind the small of her bare back, applying mild pressure that she arced her back into. I didn't need to stoop to whisper in her ear. "Lie down." She swallowed again; it bothered me again. Surely she hadn't forgotten how this went down, in the time between now and the last time she'd made love to her betrothed? I drew my hands to her naked hips and slid them down, taking her hands.

She licked her lips - I imagine because they were dry - and tightened her grip on my hands, using them to lower herself to the sloping ground behind her, with my back to the flowing water, and hers to the woods she'd come from. Then she lay naked on the patchy grass at my feet, staring up at me. All I could think of was the man who'd carved the necklace, all former enthrallment in her wetness under my hand momentarily forgotten. I imagined he was probably twice my age, twice hers. He'd probably taken her ruthlessly, hungrily, hands squeezing at her pert breasts as he'd fucked her.

I felt sick, for a moment, but then I sank to my knees before her, leant forward and placed my hands on her ankles. She held her knees over one another like I'd always imagined a virgin might - for I'd never taken a girl's maidenhead, and probably wouldn't unless I became Fire Lord - and this simply added to my tension, this nervousness with which she met me. I wondered if the wetness I'd encountered before would still be there, with the way she was acting. It was like she was trying her very best to make me feel like a rapist.

I wasn't about to grab her knees and spread her legs, whether or not she wanted me to ravage her like that just to look at me like I was a monster later on, to screw her, so I fell toward her, catching myself on my hands, which I placed on the ground either side of her head, deep within the wavy tresses of dark brown hair. I leant down to kiss her again, and this seemed to settle her much better than the taking hold of her ankles as if I were just looking for a quick fuck - even though I kind of was. The kiss was brief and chaste again, and for a change I had to be the one to deepen it; her enthusiasm had died down, and I realized the deep look in her eyes meant she was thinking.

Thinking about how bad and wrong and foolish this was.

With a knee either side of her legs, and my own bare ass in the air, I was more on display than she was, and yet she wore that ridiculously coy blush like a replacement necklace. There was no smile on her face, but some of her enthusiasm had come back, this time grave rather than merry. My first encounter with any kind of sexual situation had been with a whore hired by my father, sent to put me on the path of manhood, or some philosophical crap like that - that had been grave. I imagined there were two kinds of sex. Well, two kinds of regular sex. Grave Sex, and Laughing/Moaning Sex.

I had once laughed during a drunken romp with the thin daughter of a barman who'd served me too much rice wine, perhaps a year before this night with the waterbender - Spirits, I didn't even know the girls name - Anyway, outside of those two types of sex, it was _not _normal sex. Grave Sex and Laughing/Moaning Sex were the normal ones, and then you got Kinky Sex, Rape Sex, Forbidden Sex, and Sex Where You Shouldn't Be Having Sex. Come to think of it, that last one kind of counted for that night with the barman's daughter; I'd screwed her on her parents' bedroom floor while her father worked and her mother cooked. It hadn't been particularly good sex, nothing special, but I'd been drunk enough for it to feel great during.

Actually, this kind of counted for the last one too, and the one before it. When I thought about it, this was sort of forbidden. She was betrothed or married to someone else, from a land my people were at war with, and we were about to commit those crimes of adultery out in the open air, with my ass in the sky, the moon bouncing light off it. Fucking Wonderful.

When I pulled back from kissing her, her lower lip was held between my teeth. She gave a shudder as a result, her stomach stretching into the air as she arched her back again. I released her lip and kissed her again, lifting one hand from the ground and brushing my fingers on her exotically tanned shoulder. I felt myself, at the hardest a man could be, desperately aching to explore every part of her, and I couldn't hold back an inarticulate grunt that was stifled by her mouth. My fingers trailed across her collarbone and then down, until all five fingertips rested on the top of a firm breast.

Her eyes were closed, but at this, I knew if they had been open, she'd have shut them, and she tilted her head back. It took me a moment to figure out what this meant; the tilting her head back - she'd done it before, a few minutes ago. Then I understood that she wanted me to kiss her neck. Her breast rose and fell under my hand as she panted, one leg having come free from its spot on the floor and having found its way to the outside of one of my legs, rubbing her inner thigh against me invitingly.

I stooped over slightly, bringing my lips to her jaw, and I didn't just kiss there; I licked, and teased, and breathed on her skin - that was the one that drove her crazy, my breath on her - and dragged passionate kisses along her jaw until I reached the point below her ear, and began to move down her neck. Her breath hitched in her throat and she made some stiff kind of motion that I took as her reaction to a throb of pleasure.

On her neck, I found my favorite point and decided to leave her a little memory of this night; something to hide from the Avatar, and her brother, lest he tattle back to the man who'd carved the necklace. I kissed, and then I teased the skin with my tongue, and then I gave it a little suck that pulled at the skin, sure to leave a love bite when we were done. My fingers flattened on her breast, before closing around it and squeezing slightly, like I had imagined _he _had, only not as hard.

She gave a little whimper and brought her eyes back to mine. "Don't …" she whimpered softly. "I … I don't like that."

My brows came down but I released that perky breast from my hand, my lips still pressed to her neck, but not currently doing anything. I thought for a moment, just leant over her and trying to decide what to do before completing the sin - because that's what the sages had always taught me infidelity was, unless of course it was a Fire Lord doing the cheating; then he was _sowing his royal oats._ I suppose that's what he'd been doing with his personal servant when my mother and Azula had been in the gardens, then. I felt my own blood begin to boil at my own train of thought.

I still hadn't figured out whether this would be laughing and moaning sex or grave sex, but I figured she was getting impatient, and if I didn't get on with it, I'd burst without even getting to my destination. I slid the hand that had been on her breast down her toned stomach and abdomen until it disappeared between her legs. Her eyes widened and she stared at me for a moment, her eyes asking the question that then came off her lips.

"What are you doing?" she whispered soberly, careful not to raise her voice - the Avatar and her brother were asleep not far away, though she didn't want me to know that.

I groaned under my breath, a sound I couldn't stop myself from making as one of my fingers tested the amazing wetness at the opening of her hot sheath. She blushed that furious pink again, the blush that had annoyed a few minutes ago. Right now I knew she blushed for me, and not for what she was doing, and that didn't bother me. The moon reflected on her face, and those eyes that were hungry again, that unsure look banished from her face as I was banished from my home. She wriggled the leg still slightly in the way of me away from the other until both her inner thighs rubbed against my legs, urging me on.

Looking down at her as she shut her eyes and stifled a gasp behind her lips, I leant down and slid a hand under her head, then slid my forearm under her neck for position, leaning over her as I smacked my own lips, ready to commit the crime. My fingers left the hot heat of her wetness to wrap around my hardened muscle, as my hips moved toward her, and my hand guided the end of me to her wetness. The heat was intense, as I gave a little pressure, ready to push into her. Something stopped me though, and I whispered, my head close to hers, unable to continue before I had an answer to a certain question.

"What's your name?" I breathed hard, trying to mask my need, but failing miserably.

She turned her head toward me, her lips touching the place where my jaw met my neck as she replied. "K-Katara …" she answered nervously. That nervousness bothered me again, but she urged me on with a hungry breath. She breathed into my skin as I pushed into her. It was tight fit, even with the amazing wetness oozing from every wall I encountered on my way into her, the tightest I've ever had before. She winced, though, and I didn't know why until I stopped pushing and my brows came down. She bit her lower lip again and swallowed, and then things both made sense and didn't.

I had just come up against her virginity.

"Katara …" I tried her name on my lips; it sounded foreign. She gave another whimper, pressing me to continue, with the moon bright over us. "You're a-,"

She gave a moan, then, her lower lip released from her teeth, her eyes tightly shut and tears formed in them, sparkling in the moonlight. If her goal had been to make me feel like a rapist, then she'd succeeded. I was about to pull out when I felt her hand on the back of my neck. "Fuck, Zuko … please, just … Nngh!" she tried inarticulately, but I could decipher these not as the cries a woman gave to her rapist, but to a man she wanted to fuck her.

I reluctantly pressed on, and I felt the maidenhead break to accommodate me, and a look of surprise found its way onto Katara's face. The surprise seemed to be somewhat along the lines of 'that didn't hurt as much as I thought it would'. I could tell she was still uncomfortable; only now did I realize why she was as tight as she was; I was her first. There may not have ever even _been _a 'he' to that necklace of hers, or if there was, he certainly wouldn't be very happy when he returned to the Southern Water Tribe to find his wife had been taken by another man. By the Fire Nation Prince, no less! I mused on this, and it brought a smirk to my lips.

I slid in as far as I could go, until her wetness had reached the testicles at the base of my length, and her eyes were fluttering somewhere between pain and pleasure, and then I began to pull out. In long and slow strides did I move in her, and by the time I reached the fourth thrust, her fingernails were in the back of my neck and her voice came clearly to me.

"F-faster," she murmured, and as soon as the word was out, she seemed to realize how much innocence she'd lost tonight.

I picked up the pace somewhat, my own breath getting harder to keep, and she threw her free arm over my shoulder, as though if I hadn't been just out of distance, she'd want to hug me. I tried to keep my mind on the fact that I was getting laid, rather than the fact that I'd just taken something from this girl. I mean, technically she'd given it to me, but I still felt like this should've been for _her, _not … not just some cheap fuck as this was wont to be. This was something she should've given to someone else, someone who wouldn't have to chase her and her friends all around the world until he captured one of them. Someone who - even in a world without this war - would be able to settle down with her.

Even if there wasn't a war between us, I was a prince, and she … she was what I'd always called her. She was a peasant.

Bah! Not that I wanted to settle down with the likes of her; this was just sex. Sure, I was attracted to her, if I wasn't I wouldn't have been fucking her right now, but I wasn't going to fall head-over-heels in love with the likes of her! You don't just run out and marry the tightest cunt you could find. Well, I guess some people might, but that's not how it worked for princes. Princes' wives were picked by their fathers; the Fire Lord. If I ever made it back to the Fire Nation, Ozai would pick me a bride, whether I liked her or not. The thought was daunting.

Besides, I'd only known the girl for a few weeks; then again, that begged the question why I was balls-deep in her right in that moment. This was indecent, I knew, here outside, by the river, probably only a few hundred feet from a campsite where a twelve-year-old boy was asleep, and only slightly further away from a ship where my uncle was. I grimaced at the thought; Agni forbid my uncle found out about this. He'd probably tell my father I lacked the honor necessary to even be worthy to earn back the rest.

"Zuko …" she whispered my name under her breath.

I took this as encouragement, my breathing quickening and the intensity of the thrusts I delivered her quickening just the same. She squeezed her legs either side of my hips, panting, her hand dropping from my shoulder to the pool of her wavy hair beside her head. I had one arm under her neck, the other under her lower back, her ass hovering above the ground as I thrust into her. My knees were fixed firmly on the dirt ground under me.

"Oh, fuck, Zuko!" she whispered again, her voice cracking for a moment, as she struggled to keep her voice down.

I gave a disgruntled breath, the pleasure not merely hers, my own breaths not far from breaking out in her name the way hers had in mine. To be fair, for a first time, she had lasted fairly long; it had been a good seven minutes at least since the first moment I had entered her hot core, and for a first time, she seemed to be enjoying herself well. "K-," I stopped myself, unwilling to say her name quite yet. I wasn't quite ready. I didn't notice the pace picking up even faster.

She gave a long moan that tumbled over the thrusts I pushed into her, her back arching into me, and the grip her legs had on my hips seemed to loosen for a moment, as if she wanted to spread her legs wider for me, but then she wrapped her legs around my hips and held on. "Ngh-ngh-ngh!" she sputtered, a few consecutive times with each thrust. It was a good sound.

I knew at these cries that she would scream if she came to a sexual release tonight; and I would have to find a way to stifle it, because she would be too lost in the orgasm to do so. I would kiss her; she'd moan into my mouth, and hopefully that would stifle her enough not to wake the Avatar or Katara's brother. At the moment I decided that, I realized how close that orgasm was, by the way she bucked up against me, eyes opening suddenly as if she'd felt something she didn't understand.

What idiot had neglected to tell her the simplest ins and outs of sex?

I lifted my head to look her in the face again, feeling a throbbing ache down where I was moving into her. She searched my eyes fearfully, as if looking to me to save her from some big bad monster. For once she didn't look at me like I _was _the monster. She swallowed and licked dry lips, and her hips bucked again, seemingly without her consent. She gave a brief gasp of confusion. "What's- Ngh!" she bucked again.

I tried to search my mind for something comforting to tell her, and it came not long before she did. "It's okay, it's normal," I panted, squeezing my eyes shut as I gave her an especially hard thrust, unable to help myself; I wasn't far off either. "It's … good," I grunted, my head dipping low, my scarred cheek and unmarred lips making contact with the flat spot above her bouncing breasts.

Her eyes widened a whole lot wider than they had just prior, and she drew in a breath to scream out, as I felt her walls clench around me, the same moment the ache for release in my testicles became too much for me to hold back. I hadn't planned for this; to reach my release at the same time as her.

I couldn't focus enough to get my lips on hers in preparation for her scream, because I was involuntarily unloading myself inside her, though I had intended to, and she was caught in a rush of ecstasy she hadn't been prepared for. I should've really commended her for the way she caught her scream in her throat, though it wanted to escape, but I never thought to. Her scream had ceased to exist, and instead she was gasping amazed, sputtering breaths, as her muscles contracted around my hard dick. My voice came out in a dull whisper against her chest, and I whispered her name, though I hated myself for it afterward, _sowing my royal oats _in her as I did so. The thought of what that phrase implies never occurred to me until a long time after that night. "Katara …"

Katara's muscles continued to spasm even after I finished, her legs squeezing on my hips uncontrollably, in this release; I marveled on the difference between the male orgasm and the female. I suspected, in this moment, that hers was perhaps greater than mine. She couldn't stop her legs from unfurling from around me, as the went weak and the release left her body and her back hit the dirt under her gracelessly, her breasts bouncing as she did this. Katara shut her eyes and continued to breath hard, her hands unable to hold onto me any longer, just falling adjacent to her.

As she fell, I slipped out of her - tight as she was - and what had been the hardest part of me a few minutes ago, began to deflate. The familiar after-sex fatigue began to sink into me, and I put my hands out before me, leaning to the dirt spot beside her, just about ready to fall asleep. I hit the ground and rolled to my back, puffing to the moon above us, which was casting shiny little glares on my still-wet and deflating prick, and the gleaming sweat on me, and I assumed, on her too.

When the fatigue passed, my head began to scream at me, probably what hers had screamed at her in the moment she'd pulled away, earlier. She was the Avatar's waterbending friend; she was my enemy. If she ever learnt to bend properly, she'd probably make me regret this whole night; a night I wasn't even supposed to be near the Avatar. It was just my luck. Whether it was good luck or bad luck, it remained to be seen. And I had taken from her what she was supposed to give to a marriage, I had taken all that might've been pure and innocent about her. I found myself glancing to her, to see her asleep on the dirt, naked on her back.

I had to go. Uncle would start to worry.

Having to force myself to leave her naked in the wilderness - anyone could just wander by and take advantage, but who could've taken any more from her than I had? - I grabbed my underwear and trousers and got as dressed as I was when she happened upon me. I wondered if I could grab her tunic and drape it over her, but I knew she'd stir and wake. I looked to the forest.

The Avatar was out there, asleep, just waiting for someone to grab him. I bit back my own annoyance; Katara had been right earlier. I'd just wander around and get lost, and then I'd never find my way back. And as much as she had been willing to give me in the moonlight in the minutes before her slumber, she would never lead me to her one source of hope. I stalked to where I had been crouched by the water and grabbed up in the tree she'd frozen me to, snatching my shirt and shoes. I carried them away, and when I was sure she wouldn't hear me, I pulled them on, and then I ran back along the river out to port, where my ship and my uncle awaited me.


	2. Discovery

Katara had been feeling sick for a number of mornings until the day she actually began vomiting, not four-day journey away from the North Pole. They were so close to achieving what had been their goal for so long, and she was sick. This had to be some way the world was trying to screw with her. Honestly; four days from their destination, and she was stuck on Appa's saddle in the Arctic, blowing chunks over the edge into the sea, leaning to be careful she didn't get any on the bison.

Sokka kept his hand on his sister's back the entire time when she needed to puke, a distasteful expression on his face. When she was done, she shrank back into the saddle and curled up under her brother's arm. He made no sarcastic comments, even though he wanted to, and just allowed her to curl up with him. She'd been vomiting for the past three-and-a-half days intermittently.

"Sokka, I feel horrible …" she murmured miserably, wiping her face.

Sokka frowned wanly, "Maybe you picked something up at the Northern Air Temple. All that steam and smoke and stuff … or maybe you're allergic to something that was there," he thought aloud.

"I wouldn't still be sick from an allergy," Katara replied, her voice gritty and her eyes puffy, curling up in her parka, the fur warm in comparison to the sharp arctic winds.

Sokka pursed his lips pensively. "They have healers at the North Pole. We're only half a day away."

He said no more. He didn't need to.

After a little misunderstanding with the Northern water-benders, hey got into the awe-inspiring city without a hitch and were honored by a celebration in the evening being held by the tribe's chief in honor of their arrival. Sokka was interested to know more about the chief - and his daughter - and so offered his help for pretty much anything the chief (or princess) might need. He disappeared for the day.

The festivities at the end of the day were really more of a feast and a bit of a performance by the water-bending master, Pakku, and then they went to bed, in a small house provided by Chief Arnook. The three slept like the dead, until a short while before sunrise; when Katara woke up with a terrible, searing pain in her middle, a dizzying nausea and a churning stomach.

The morning didn't exactly go as planned, with a few complications including the sexism of a certain water-bending master, a lesson in healing from a kindly old woman by the name of Yugoda, and a strange conversation regarding Katara's grandmother, among other things. The healing was interesting - and useful, of course - but it wasn't bending the way Katara had always pictured it.

So the day ended on an anticlimactic low, until Sokka nonchalantly concocted an antidote to Katara and Aang's dilemma without even trying. Eventually, that turned into a complication too. Pakku was now not only refusing to teach Katara, but Aang too. They sure made them dumber up North, that was for sure.

The second morning after their arrival, Katara ended up in a bending duel with Master Pakku, severely disadvantaged by her lack of training (and the churning in her stomach returning) but proving to be a harder nut to crack than the old man had originally assumed. She held her own, for a while. Until she was suddenly bested; knocked down and trapped in ice before she could get her wits about her.

An icicle slit apart a small tear in the skin on her arm, through the material of her clothes, though she didn't notice this until she was eventually released and listening to Pakku lament over losing her grandmother to his own arrogant sexism, and that of his tradition. Once she got the necklace back, she noticed the slow trickle of blood on her skin and made towards Yugoda's healing temple, unsure that she could heal it herself.

Much to Katara's surprise, Yugoda was teaching a more advanced lesson, to four girls slightly older than Katara, with a different kind of mannequin, when she arrived. She waited until the lesson was over, and then approached Yugoda, her sleeve rolled up. Having caught bits and pieces of the lesson, Katara queried this as Yugoda guided the girl through the healing technique; finding the graze a magnificent teaching opportunity.

"So what were you teaching back then?" Katara asked, eyes fixed on the dull blue glow of her bending.

Yugoda smiled fondly, "Those girls are in my special class, training to become healers themselves. I've been teaching them how to handle complications in birthing and pregnancy, lately."

Katara eyed the mannequin with the bulging middle. "Wow," she breathed, before concentrating on her graze again, "And they've been training for awhile to get to take the advanced lessons?" she asked thoughtfully.

"They took the basic lessons when they were younger - the ones like you attended yesterday - but it's only last month they entered my advanced class. If you'd like, you could come to give it a go tonight. I usually give two sessions a day - one in the night and one in the morning. Many students focus better at night."

"I'd love to," Katara scrutinized her handiwork on the cut on her arm. No scar; just a little line of slightly paler skin. She looked up to Yugoda. "What do you mean, complications? With births?"

Yugoda smiled warmly. "I don't usually do this, but, would you like a private lesson? Then you'll be up to date with the other girls for tonight."

Katara immediately smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically. "You'd do that? Yes! Thank you!"

Yugoda knelt before the mannequin, and Katara sat just outside the circle of water surrounding it, watching intently. Yugoda held up a hand over the rising bump on the mannequin and brought a glow to it, before the glow died away and she looked up to Katara. "When I talk about complications I mean excessive bleeding, the baby being positioned wrong, the umbilical cord being knotted … things like that. Do you follow?"

Katara nodded.

"Good. There can also be rare complications within pregnancy alone. Like, amniotic tissue constricting the growth of the baby's limbs, ectopic pregnancies where the pregnancy begins in the fallopian tube, and hormone imbalances that can cause miscarriages.

"Most women here at the Northern tribe have three healing sessions with a healer during pregnancy, to be sure the baby is developing normally and that if anything is out of place, it can be corrected."

Katara thought on this. "Corrected?"

"Before the baby is born, as healers we can safely use our bending to break amniotic bands. This is rarely needed. And hormone imbalances can be treated with herbs."

"And ectopic pregnancies?"

Yugoda's smile faltered. "There's usually only one thing we can do with those - end the pregnancy."

Katara's eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath. "What? You can do that? How?" she frowned hard.

"It's unimportant. You'll be traveling with the Avatar, and as I can tell you're the only girl traveling with him, so it won't be necessary to know about that. Stay focused dear, alright?"

Katara glanced away and then sighed. "Alright."

"Good. Now, can you tell me when a pregnancy starts?"

Katara answered almost mechanically, "When a man and a woman have sex." And then after a short moment, something dawned on her. Sickness, vomiting, stomach pains, nausea … and now that she thought of it, when had she last had her moon time?

"You're right, Katara. And what's the first sign a woman gets that she is with child?"

"A missed moon time," Katara answered; this time some emotionless awe in her own voice. How had she not noticed it? Sure, they'd been on the run a lot, and that didn't give her much time to think about mundane things like periods, but she still should've noticed! They'd picked up the pace after the run in with Zuko and that woman on the Shirshu …

Oh, Tui and La, no. Katara lifted a hand unconsciously and touched her lower lip thoughtfully. Zuko. She hadn't had a moon time since that night on the riverbank with Prince Zuko. She suddenly needed to vomit again. She wanted to get up, tell Yugoda she had forgotten something and leave, but she just wanted to ask one thing.

"There are other signs, after that, right?" she asked innocently, the picture of a perfect student.

"Yes, Katara. Morning sickness begins about six weeks after conception, and ends approximately around the twelfth week, and breast tenderness often occurs in the first trimester with the younger mothers here. If a woman still isn't sure, here they can have a healer look them over, and we can detect a pregnancy as early on as three weeks after conception. Medicine continues to advance, doesn't it?" Yugoda smiled thoughtfully.

Katara bit her lip. "And how do you do that?"

"See if a woman is pregnant?" Yugoda asked. Katara nodded. "It's rather hard to explain. I'm seeing a girl this afternoon though, to check for her. If you're curious, you should join me. None of the other girls are remotely as interested to see my work in action as you seem to be - I'd be happy to show you."

Katara laughed nervously. "I'll be there."

She spent a lot of the day then with Pakku and his students, surpassing a lot of them in skill in the first few hours, and earning herself leave to go to Yugoda's session with the girl to learn the technique. She was probably just overreacting, but she wasn't about to let something like that go undetected in the case that she _was_pregnant, Tui and La help her. She tried her best to shake this possibility off through the day.

It had been one time, randomly, in the woods with a perfect stranger - her first time. Sure, stranger things had happened, she'd admit that, but honestly! The chances were that she just had a stomach bug and she'd be fine in a few days. But, she was not rash, or naïve, or indecisive, and to not go about being completely sure would've been against her own personality. Katara was all about being one-hundred-per-cent sure about things.

Eventually Katara found the time to sit alone in the house provided by Chief Arnook and sit down on her sleeping bag, deep in thought. She hadn't thought about that night on the riverbank since … well, since it had happened. Since she'd woken up naked in the woods, the bastard having taken off on her, she'd forced herself to just pretend it hadn't happened. For a while, she'd tricked herself into thinking it had been a dream.

Then it had become real again, after seeing the banished prince at the nunnery where Bato had been staying when they bumped into him. With a subtle smirk in her direction, Zuko had made it all come flooding back; the reality of what she'd done- what she'd let him do. Tui and La, if she ever saw him again it would be too soon. His uncle hadn't given her a funny look, so she guessed he hadn't told him - why would he? They were big on honor in the Fire Nation, right?

Katara dropped back to the sleeping bag, feeling rather tired. Maybe she'd take a nap and everything would just fade away for a while. Then a daunting thought occurred to her. If she found out she was pregnant … then what? A fourteen-year-old water-bender carrying a banished Fire Nation Prince's baby? What did would she do? She couldn't just keep traveling with Aang. She sure as Koh wasn't going to tell that arrogant prince about it.

She shrugged this off, frowning with closed eyes. She wasn't pregnant. She would check herself to be sure, and then she'd be completely sure she wasn't pregnant and then she'd move on. Nothing would come of that foolish decision she'd made on the riverbank. She was just being careful.

* * *

><p>Zuko resurfaced from under the water with his skin burning, unsure whether the other side of his face was burnt to match the original scar. He gasped for breath, having been blasted right down to the bottom of the harbor in the blast, glass shards having split open his skin wherever it could. The only thing he could think about was that reptilian bird. He breathed quickly and shallowly, swimming in the cold water toward land.<p>

Once reunited with his rather distraught uncle, Zuko set about salvaging what he could from the ex-ship. Just the important things; his clothes, his swords, his Blue Spirit mask, some old trinkets from home … beyond attire, what he took was small stuff, mainly of sentimental value or usefulness. He traveled along the same path as his uncle, stealthily, toward the dock from which Zhao's fleet would be taking off for the North Pole.

Zuko stowed away on the flagship. He would die before he let Zhao take the Avatar.

He spent the next few days hiding out in a darkened corner of the flagship, planning his way into the Northern City to snatch the Avatar right out from under his rival.

* * *

><p>Days passed, slowly and surely. Katara's water-bending skills seemed to be increasing five-fold each time she left Pakku's lessons, having thrown herself into her bending to have an excuse for putting off the inevitable. At some point, she slunk off to do something, and Aang, having had the 'talk' from Sokka, didn't bother her. He didn't want to get caught up in her girl problems.<p>

Sokka said they made girls homicidal.

Speaking of Sokka, he was off doing something with Appa. Back at the Northern Air Temple Sokka had said something about training Appa to distinguish which places he didn't want to stop and just fly by them, so Aang supposed Sokka might by trying his hand at bison training. Then the dark soot began to fall from the sky. Sokka returned on Appa with Princess Yue, and by that time, drums were being sounded.

They all gathered in the main temple - and Chief Arnook spoke.

"_The day we have feared for so long has arrived. The Fire Nation is on our doorstep. It is with great sadness I call my family here before me, knowing well that some of these faces are about to vanish from our tribe. But they will never vanish from our hearts. Now, as we approach the battle for our existence, I call upon the great spirits! Spirit of the Ocean! Spirit of the Moon! Be with us!"_

When Katara finally got back, she looked like she'd been crying. When Aang asked what was wrong, she told him to mind his business and demanded to know what was going on - why the warriors and water-benders were gathering. The young Avatar, still taken aback by her sharpness, told her that the Fire Nation was coming. Her ornery attitude disappeared and Aang told her was going to sabotage the ships as far from the tribe as he could.

Raids like these didn't end well.

Aang took off on Appa into the sky around the same time the first fireballs came down, crashing into the walls and destroying houses. Sokka had gone to offer his services for a special mission, and that left Katara and some of Pakku's other students putting out fires and evacuating people to safer areas of the city. At one point, Katara and another one of Pakku's students bent the ice under a landed fireball to throw it back to the ships over the wall, hoping it would hit something.

Then the tanks tore down a section of the great wall to invade. Snow from the top came crashing down and buried Katara for a short while until she climbed out and saw the tanks pouring in. Pakku was holding them back, for the most part, but he was surrounded and some were getting past. After the tanks came the komodo rhinos, and their benders were just as ruthless and heartless as those in the tanks.

There was chaos in the streets - explosions of fire, screams of pain from both sides. It was sickening. Katara put aside her own qualms about killing; this was war and she had people to protect. Innocent people were dying under fire from the enemy, and she had to help where she could. She slashed a man from his body, right from atop his komodo rhino. The snow spattered red.

"Katara!" she heard a cry.

Her head turned immediately and she saw her brother on one of the bridges, with Princess Yue. Katara ran up the spiraling staircase, affording the cluttered canal below another glance - blood was spilled in it, with the remains of a destroyed house. This day would be etched in her mind for years to come. When she reached the top of the staircase, her brother led them across the bridge and down a hallway that led to a safe room where families were huddled and chattering anxiously.

Katara snatched her hand back from her older brother. "No, Sokka. I have to fight with the other benders. This is what I came to the North Pole for."

Sokka only partially understood, but he reluctantly nodded and then threw his arms around his sister. "You come back. Promise."

Katara nodded into his shoulder. "I promise."

And then she ran back out to fight for the people; to protect them from chaos. They fought all day, until night fell and the near-full moon above shone down from the sky. At that point, the Fire Nation forces pulled out and ceases fire. Few knew why. Pakku was one of them. He told his students that during a full moon, water-benders were blessed with twice the strength they usually had at their disposal, and that they had the advantage at night because of the moon.

Its presence was an advantage. The Fire Nation was being careful too.

Katara went back to find Sokka and found Yue and Aang, who had returned from a day spent taking out ship after ship, hardly making a dent in the fleet, talking. Aang was extremely disheartened, telling them he had to have taken out thirty to fifty ships, and that it still wasn't enough. There had to be hundreds of them, carrying thousands of soldiers. They were severely outnumbered. Aang needed help from the spirits.

Yue suddenly jumped at this, and told them she thought she might be able to help Aang get help from the Moon and Ocean spirits. She led them around four or five corners, through an elaborate labyrinth of hallways that only a local could've navigated, until they came to a low wooden hatch of a door in the ice. Aang asked if it was a doorway into the spirit world. Yue told him it wasn't, but she could take them to the most spiritual place in the whole Northern Water tribe.

Katara marveled at the grass and clear cool water, the foliage and the paifang gate … everything felt _alive_around them. It was so strange. Aang said something about spirits, but Katara didn't catch it. Aang sat down in a meditative position near the pond, watching the koi fish circling one another, drawing in a calm breaths to enter the spirit world. Katara and Yue stood back, watching him intently.

After a while, Yue whispered to Katara to ask what he was doing. Katara told Yue that Aang was meditating, and that it was how he got into the spirit world. Aang cracked open an eye at this interruption in his concentration. Yue asked Katara if there was any way they could help, and Aang burst out that some quiet would be nice. The girls fell into silence and Aang returned to his meditation.

A long time passed before Aang's tattoos suddenly brightened to a blinding white light. Yue gasped out, wondering what was happening to him. Katara assured Yue that this was okay, and that Aang would be fine as long as they didn't move his body, because it was his way back into the physical world. Yue questioned whether they should get some help.

"No, he's my friend," Katara assured the princess, "I'm perfectly capable of protecting him."

"Well, aren't you a big girl now?" came a sinister, smug voice that forced them to snap their gazes toward it.

Zuko was advancing malevolently, his smug expression changing to a more serious one. Katara felt her blood boil at the sight of him, and she raised her hands up in preparation for a battle. He was quite obviously injured - not badly or seriously, but enough to make him look a little scarier than usual - but Katara paid no attention to this. What had she been thinking? Sleeping with that jerk? Who's dumb idea had that been?

"Hand him over and I won't have to hurt you," Zuko snarled, his tone half reasonable and half threatening.

Katara clenched her jaw, assuming a water-bending stance and drawing up some water to fight with. Taking this as initiation, Zuko kicked out, throwing a flare of fire at her, following up with two punches, sending balls of an inferno at the water-bender girl. Katara reached for the pond water and dissipated his attacks before they could even get close to her or Aang.

She wasn't going to let him take Aang - putting all other complications aside, Aang came first - no matter what. When he moved to attack again, she shifted a bolt of water into the fire, before cutting off his next attack by throwing him back to the ground. He landed on his front and leapt to his feet, suddenly taking her a lot more seriously. She was no longer just a peasant girl hanging around with the Avatar.

She was a formidable enemy.

They fought back and forth for a long while - as soon as Zuko had the upper hand, she would snatch it out from under him, and vice versa. It was a battle for domination, and Aang was forgotten at one point, for a short moment. Eventually she broke his root, his stance unstable, and she used this to her advantage, freezing his feet to the ground while he was trying to get his footing back. With some effort, Katara enveloped him in water, caging him with it, and then it solidified into ice, trapping him in a ball. She smirked.

Then in a panting, drawling tone, Zuko addressed her from inside the orb. "You little peasant," he began with an insult - as was his habit, "You've found a master, haven't you?" his entire body heated, and the air within the ice got hotter and hotter, until the ball was unable to stand the heat. It exploded in large blocks, one of which Katara had to dodge to avoid getting hit, and then the barrage of fire returned.

Katara studied his bending as much as she could while she fought; Pakku had told her that a water-bender's advantage is to use their enemy's own chi, and bending, against them. If she could figure out what made him tick, she could get the upper hand again. All he had was an offense. That meant his only defense was an offensive counterstrike. He was getting closer; she was willing to bet his fire-bending was less effective at short range.

At one point she had to duck aside to avoid getting a scar just like his, but she was quick enough to stay safe, and elbow him in the ribs while she was at it. He winced a little louder than she had expected, with a slight grunt to it that reminded her of the night on the riverbank - and that was what she was going to call it from now on, for obvious reasons. She guessed that however he'd sustained those injuries to his face, he'd been hurt in the ribs too.

It was horrible to think it, but she listed this as an advantage.

With her bending, she knocked him back, sure she had the upper hand now, and then with some concentration, she sent a jet of water in his direction, positioning it upward so fast that it took him right off his feet, and several yards into the air. When the water had carried him high enough, Katara focused on freezing it in the glinting red light of the sun peeking on the horizon. It hardened to ice, and he had fallen unconscious - probably from exhaustion.

Katara allowed herself to relax a little. Not a lot, but a little.

She watched him for a moment; as he slept, unawares. One phrase kept returning to her as she watched; 'little does he know'. Unconsciously she lifted a hand to her middle and swallowed hard. This whole thing was one big accident. She turned away from the knocked out prince to look at Aang, hoping he would wake soon. She couldn't expect Zuko to stay frozen where he was forever - he'd wake up eventually - and she would've liked for Aang to be back when that happened.

Zuko felt a bolt of energy return to him as the sun hit the ice that held him prisoner. He felt it light the scarred side of his face first, and then the unmarred one. As soon as it energized him, he felt a wave of power coming back to him, and he realized his advantage; the water-bender didn't think he'd be awake for a while. Little did she know. He'd have her back for making a fool of him. He lifted his head and saw her turn her back to him, and his face morphed to a snarl.

Steam billowed from his nose and the ice around him melted.

One lightning-fast run up and a two-handed blast caught her unguarded and what water the peasant managed to pull from the ground was only enough to keep her from being burnt. The impact hit her at full-capacity and she was knocked so hard her feet lost contact with the ground and went reeling backwards until she smashed back-first into the paifang gate post and crumpled on the grass before it.

Zuko grasped the Avatar by the collar and watched her the way she had watched him. "You rise with the moon," he stated distastefully. "I rise with the sun."

* * *

><p>Katara woke up to Sokka shaking her up. Her back felt bruised, as did the back of her head, and she remembered a flash of orange before everything going black. She suddenly sat up, narrowed avoiding knocking foreheads with her brother. She stared at where Aang had been and her brows tilted up. She gave a breath of despair. Sokka was asking what had happened, and where Zuko had gone. His voice was muffled by a headache Katara felt coming on.<p>

"He took him right out from under me," she lifted a hand to the side of her head and pressed two fingers to her temple.

"Great," Sokka murmured sarcastically.

Where she sat on the grass, Katara looked down to be sure she hadn't miscarried. It came naturally; she hadn't even consciously wanted to, she'd just found herself looking down and being relieved that there was no blood. Then her brother offered his hand and helped her up. They left on Appa to find them; out in the snowy tundra above the city's level.

The next time Katara saw Zuko, he was no match for her; outnumbered, stiff and shaking from the cold, and unable to see in the blizzard. She defeated him easily. She had already killed that day, and she could've made things easier for them in the future by killing him too, or if they had just left him to die in the snow. Katara wondered when her heart had blackened to even let her think like that.

Aang brought the unconscious prince aboard the flying bison, and Sokka tied him with his own ropes. They turned back toward the city. Katara watched him as they flew, and felt ashamed of her actions. She should've known better on the riverbank. It would've been easier to put all the blame on him and his evil manipulation, or lie to herself until she thought he'd done something a lot less honorable to her, but though she was many things, deluded was not one of them.

Katara stared at him as they flew, trying to sort out her own feelings about all this.

They didn't see the banished prince for a long time after that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I suppose I could say it's a little drabbly. I wanted to try a style different to LILABOC and LILAM, so a lot is told from perspective. I thought about continuing the whole thing in 1st person, but it gets too heavy that way. Some authors like emletish can pull it off, but I know where my skills end and where I'm pushing it.**

**(I cannot believe the mistake I had to fix here. Apparently everyone rises with the moon.) ;)**

**So 3rd person it is.**

**The next time they see Zuko after the North Pole is in Book 2; Episode 8; The Chase. By that time, Katara would've been showing, and she would be alienated from the others for her situation; Aang because he wouldn't understand, and Sokka because he's pissed. Also, I think I'm gonna have a lot of fun with Iroh. I don't play with him enough in LILAM, but he and Zuko are like a package deal in the series.**

**Alrighty then. I better get started on my other stories. :P**

**Review!**


	3. Realization

Sokka hadn't spoken to Katara in three weeks. Aang was nice enough about the whole thing, though obviously bothered, unable to understand the whole thing. Toph, surprisingly was the kindest person nearby, after the news - the horrible truth that had her alienated from her brother and the Avatar. Toph had made a few jokes, not being quite as naïve as Aang, but in the end, Toph was accepting, because Katara had been accepting of her.

Katara remembered crying the night she'd told everyone, unable to keep it a secret anymore, once the bulge began to form at her middle. Toph had known the first time she'd met the waterbender, using her earthbending, and had also known better than to say about it. The waterbender cried that she was such an idiot, and that a stranger like Toph could be so understanding and kind about it.

Katara didn't tell them the curve of her stomach was attributed to a night with the banished prince of the fire nation; she just reminded them about Jet, and nothing else needed to be said. She hadn't said it outright, but she'd implied and that was enough to get Sokka going. Toph had known this was a lie, even though Katara was almost fooled with it.

Then by the way Katara's heartbeat fluttered at the mention of a certain Prince Zuko, Toph had known a little more.

They were exhausted from staying on the move, but able to stay civil with one another, at least for the time being. The day came where they'd barely slept for an hour straight, constantly moving from a smoke billowing, train like contraption obviously of fire nation manufacturing. That was the day Katara mentioned Zuko, but they had more important things to worry about.

"Whoever's chasing us is serious about it," Aang stated distastefully, bruise-colored bags under his eyes.

Sokka grunted, "Like Zuko wasn't? I'm telling you - it's gotta be that ponytail jerk!"

"No. Zuko was banished. There's no way he'd have backing like that behind him - It's someone else. Like maybe the Rough Rhinos," Aang thought aloud.

And the debate went on and on, until they fell asleep mid conversation. Then the _chaka-chaka _of the train contraption awakened them to the chase, and they were flying again. Honestly, none of them could precisely recap the whole day - or was it two days? - That they spent running from Azula and her two friends in pink and black. But it all came to a head at a burnt, abandoned, ruined earth kingdom desert town.

Exhausted and unfocused, the only advantage they had was in numbers.

One thing Katara did remember was a moment between gold eyes and blue. She had been … _relieved__ … _to see him after so long. She'd been glad he was okay. Short locks of raven hair were beginning to grown in on him, and his voice was a low and gentle rasp as always. In surprise, before a splice of blue fire came between them, he uttered her name, the same relief on his tongue.

He saw _her_before he saw the curve of her belly. When he _did _see it, he took a few involuntary steps backward that nearly got him scorched by his sister, but the waterbender dissipated the princess' fire before it could reach him. When Azula returned to attacking the Avatar, who'd emerged from some rubble somewhere, the two stared again at one another, almost speaking to one another.

His hard golden eyes softened in fearful wonder, and his mouth opened to speak words that never came.

Her cerulean orbs glimmered an open but cautious stare in his direction.

And then he shot fire at her and it was all over. She recoiled, her arms going up, water pushing the fire from her and her child, her eyes on his the entire time. Tears betrayed her and dripped off her chin. Zuko swallowed back whatever emotion he might have felt in that moment, and continued his barrage. The Avatar was his hope. His way home. Even if his father had given up on him, he could never forget who he was.

He was a prince of the fire nation, and the Avatar was his only hope left. That was all he'd ever wanted - to go home. He couldn't give up now. He _never _gave up.

Even after that, after attacking her and trying to capture Aang, when Azula shot her uncle with blue fire the second he was distracted with noticing what Zuko had, she offered to help him - to heal his uncle. She was just like that; doomed to help people despite her own better judgment, if she had any. Zuko howled like an injured animal and sent them away. With no other option, they fled.

Katara cried silently that night, between fitful spells of rest, and Toph lay awake, listening, knowing the best she could do was not to say anything at all. She didn't know what to say to her waterbending friend, but she knew that a good cry was sometimes what a person needed the most in the world. When Katara fell back asleep, a hand on her belly protectively, Toph rolled onto her back and put a hand on the ground under her.

And beyond the other three heartbeats besides her own, she felt a tiny little beat from beneath Katara's hand.

* * *

><p>Zuko stared up at the stars through the holes in the broken roof above him and his uncle, thinking. He'd initially tried sleeping, but now he couldn't even think about that. Every so often he would look over to his uncle to be sure he was still breathing. He wished his uncle were the only thing he were worrying about. Blue eyes continued to stare at him.<p>

Everything had happened so quickly. Of course, he could still be wrong about what he'd seen, but … but the way she'd looked at him, her hands coming in towards her middle, more concerned with protecting her child than herself. Zuko doubted even the waterbender had noticed that. It had been hard enough to forget that night on the riverbank as it was, with images of her tilting her head back and gasping in his arms constantly returning to him.

But it had been her first time - sure, stranger things had happened, but for her to carry his seed after only one chance encounter? His mind had to be running away with him! And who was to say the child she carried was _his? _There could've been others after him. He hated to call her a whore, but she had given herself to him only because he'd known how to touch her.

Zuko saw tears rolling down her cheeks and shut his eyes to block it out. No. She knew better than anyone could who the father of her baby was. He couldn't deny her that. Briefly, he imagined a little girl with bright cerulean eyes and his light complexion snapping a water whip at him playfully, and him splashing her back with water from the turtleduck pond at home.

Home.

He still wanted to go home. It was sad but true that his child growing in a waterbenders womb changed nothing about his purpose. He had to capture the Avatar to go home. Surely she would understand, right? Zuko rolled onto his side. It didn't matter if she understood; what could a water tribe peasant possibly understand about honor, or loyalty? He didn't have to explain himself to her.

She'd been a convenient fuck, and nothing else. All the repercussions of that night were hers and hers alone. But for her sake, and not that he cared about her or anything like that, he hoped his- _her_ child … wasn't a firebender. In the whole world, probably only a hundred non-fire nation women had survived carrying firebending children to term.

The rest? Burnt from the inside out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry it's so short. It's drabbly, I know. **


	4. Guilt and Pride

Days, perhaps weeks, passed before Uncle showed any sign of recovery. Zuko honestly didn't know how long it was, but he knew they'd run out of food and he'd had to teach himself to hunt if he wanted to eat meat. Eating wasn't a problem for Uncle, of course; being unconscious most of the time. Zuko had gotten him to drink some water, and even eat some bread between his long spells of sleep.

Eventually Uncle healed enough to travel, and they moved on, slowly, at first, with the injured party riding their stolen ostrich horse, and Zuko leading the animal through the near-deserted wastelands created by their family's war. Zuko cursed himself for thinking like that, but it was true. The Fire Nation had turned their back on them, and left them to the ruins of the Earth Kingdom. In face, the only place that didn't want to kill them - at least not with a passion - was the Water Tribe.

But he'd be damned if he went to live _there. _

Zuko got thinking a lot while they traveled. Retreating somewhat into his own mind was the easiest way to keep himself sane, short of taking up a hobby or something. And what kind of hobby would someone like him take up? Chiseling? Briefly, he considered it. There was plenty of wood around, at least. He shook this off, usually around the same time his mind moved back toward arrogance and pride.

So they traveled. And Zuko thought. Iroh would talk and Zuko would listen for a change, interested in his Uncle's wisdom and advice. Zuko seemed no longer to have anything to say on matters, and he knew this bothered his uncle, but what was he supposed to say? If he started talking, they'd start talking about things of importance. Like … like how he felt about his father fully turning his back on him. And …

And Katara.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking about her a lot. Well, perhaps thinking was a strong word for it. She would enter his mind, and then he would banish her again. Her. The word sat in his head for a while, and he considered and then 'her' became 'them'. Not because of the Avatar, or her brother, or the new girl. Because of 'it'.

He tasted something bitter in his mouth each time he remembered attacking her on the day they'd fought Azula. Maybe it was because he'd tarnished his honor.

Zuko then scolded himself. If anyone's honor had been damaged, it was the water tribe girl's. But still! It wasn't his fault! He hadn't done anything dishonorable; she'd been a willing participant in what he could only bring himself to call 'the night on the riverbank'. Mayhap some responsibility lay on him for exciting her - and he was smug about this despite the seriousness of all things - but she should've considered the repercussions of her … their … actions.

Zuko thought to something his mother had told him when he was little. 'People are only responsible for actions that they knew better than to commit'. Zuko remembered asking her to simplify, and then her bringing him to the conclusion that a person could not be blamed for something if they didn't have the maturity to have known better.

Subsequently, whenever Azula had gotten in trouble afterward, she'd use this to her advantage. 'Oh, well I'm only six. I don't know any better.'

Zuko shook this away and wondered if perhaps Katara _hadn't _known better. After all, she'd showed him just how inexperienced she'd been that night.

"Prince Zuko," Uncle spoke up from opposite him, on the other side of their campfire one night, "Something, I believe, is troubling you."

Finally ready to speak, Zuko looked up and he smiled weakly at his uncle. "There is," he agreed solemnly.

Uncle nodded, sipping tea from a little wooden cup. "Like perhaps the water tribe girl … ?" he took a long blink, speaking in a knowing way.

Zuko nearly choked on his own tongue, and then settled with the face of a frightened child on his face; like a child who has done something wrong and thinks he is caught. He looked at his uncle for a while, and then the older man shot him a dark look he hadn't seen on him before, and Zuko looked away, shamefaced. He swallowed hard. "Yeah. Like her," he stared into the fire then, "… How … how did you-," he began to ask, carefully, when his uncle cut him off.

"It is what distracted me all those weeks ago, when Azula wounded me. The blind girl; the Avatar's earthbending teacher. I had spent a long hour or two drinking tea with her that day, while following you. She told me many things, but much of it revolved around her worry for the water tribe girl," Iroh's golden eyes, piercing, flickered across the fire to Zuko, "and her child."

Zuko actually winced. He drew a sharp breath and watched his uncle, a look on his face like a cat-rabbit kitten in a drowning sack.

"I have many things to say on the matter - this I know - but I have yet to think what many of them might be," Iroh's voice was thick and raspy, and angry by the sound of it, "I ask you, Prince Zuko, to tell me your side of it. Tell me why it is you have, among other, far worse things, put an innocent girl's life at risk for your own …" he clenched his fists and stopped himself to keep from yelling. He drew a breath. "… For your own selfish pleasure," he finished. "Speak now, Prince Zuko."

Zuko ran his tongue across his lower lip, gathering his thoughts. Where did he begin? His uncle was angry with him, for one of the first time in his life. It was suddenly that Zuko realized the gravity of his actions. _He _should've known better. He really _was _to blame for it. Maybe it was just that guilt poured into him so freely with the way his uncle looked him up and down, but Zuko felt in that moment like he'd murdered every single air nomad himself.

"I …" Zuko paused and he drew a shaky breath, "I didn't …" he cursed his mind! _Words_, he commanded it, _make words_! "It w- it wasn't like that!" he sputtered nervously, "I know what you're thinking and I know it's still terrible, what I did, but it wasn't the way you think it was," he spoke quickly and defensively, "I didn't … I didn't hurt her," he added, feeling somewhat resigned.

Uncle eyed him seriously and narrowed his golden eyes, "Perhaps not at the time," he sipped his tea again, "But you and I are both aware of how few women outside of the fire nation survive carrying firebending children to term. Even fewer water tribe than earth kingdom," he pointed out thoughtfully, grimacing, still quite irate, "As things are, death for the infant is a near certainty, and death for her is extremely likely. Not to mention the shame you've cast upon her and her family."

Zuko nodded. "I know. If … maybe if she's lucky …" he didn't know when he'd started thinking aloud, but he kept going, "Maybe if she's lucky it won't be a firebender," then he did something almost reminiscent of backpedaling, "I mean, it's bad, I know, no matter what … but I … I don't want her to die for what I did," he sighed heavily and hung his head. "I know what I did was … _horrible _… and I'm sorry," he lifted a hand to his face and rubbed at his face tiredly, "I'm sorry for what I did."

Iroh watched him pensively, and then pulled a face. "Do you know what damage control is, Zuko?"

Zuko looked up at his uncle. "It's a political term," he answered immediately, confusion coming over his face, "It means minimizing the negative effects of a flaw in a political, military or economic movement."

Iroh couldn't help but let his frown soften somewhat. "For now, that should be your main concern. Most non-fire-nation women do not survive carrying firebending children to term, but 'most', does not mean 'all'. Those who survive it are also those who have the firebending father of the child close throughout the pregnancy. Obviously that can't be so, given the many differences between your life and the water tribe girl's-,"

"Katara," Zuko found himself saying, and Iroh raised an eyebrow, "Uh … that's her name," he explained and blinked at his own sudden interjection.

Iroh blinked, once, "… Okay … moving on. You must hope we meet with the Avatar again; if for no other reason than to inform her how to best protect herself and her … _your _… child. I'm unsure if you are aware of this, Prince Zuko, but firebending children need a tremendous amount of heat in the womb to grow. If they don't receive this warmth, as fire nation women are able to give, they turn to their own inner fire for heat. This affects fire nation women too, from time to time. My mother experienced it when carrying your father, and your mother experienced it while carrying you."

Zuko blinked, taking this in, the wheels of his mind turning. This was like weird version of the birds and bees talk he'd received from his Uncle years ago.

"Of course, firebenders and heat were never far, and there were no complications with your birth, which I suspect might be the reason your father has been known to dub you 'lucky' to be born. It is easily dealt with, at least with firebenders on hand. But a heated water-skin, I believe should be able to do the same. The trick, Zuko, is to keep the child warm. That … really is all there is to it."

Zuko's mouth fell open and he stared at his uncle. "What? That's so obvious though! How could so many women die just because-,"

Iroh shook his head, "Zuko - if you felt as if you were burning from the inside out, would you think to heat yourself up further?" he smiled earnestly.

Zuko blinked. "… Uh … Oh."

No, he certainly wouldn't. He'd be too busy trying to cool down. But he took this information to heart and in fact thanked his uncle for it, and he thought about it for much of that night. He didn't tell his uncle they didn't need another reason to need to find the Avatar, but he did want to help her. He wondered if she'd accept his help after attacking her a few days ago. Maybe she'd think he was trying to cause her to miscarriage, for his own reasons. Maybe she wouldn't listen to him, just because he still planned to capture the Avatar.

He finally shut his eyes and tried to fall asleep. He still hoped it wasn't a firebending child that had been growing in her womb these past four months since the night on the riverbank, but a sliver of hope existed for her in the event that it was. He hoped she would listen to him.

* * *

><p>It had been a few days since Aang had broken the barrier with his earthbending, and he was finally starting to bend … at an infant's level, as Toph had put it. So things were going rather well, Sokka thought. At least Aang was moving forward in his bending. Maybe his waterbending could use some work too, but he was at a decent level, all things considered.<p>

After all, it had only been two months since they'd left the North Pole.

Sokka was sharpening his boomerang against a rock, with the expertise of a true warrior, when the excitement of the rock throwing nearby was overshadowed by a chirping cry from Katara. A grimace took over Sokka's face as the very sound of his sister's voice. He loved her, yes; nothing could change that, but … but what would Dad think? He'd been entrusted to keep his sister safe, and look what had happened.

Sokka swore he would rip Jet's face from his skull if they ever crossed paths again, as he got up to see what Katara was yelling about. Aang and Toph were bounding over cheerfully to see what she was so excited about. Katara was sitting near the dying campfire, in a lounging sort of position - she hadn't been able to sit up properly for a while, always being afraid of squashing the baby.

"Toph, come here! Toph!" Katara was gushing with a big grin on her face - Toph had quickly become her baby buddy over the last few weeks. "The baby's kicking!"

Toph was at her side in a split second with a hand on Katara's belly and her ears perked too, to listen, when a little bump came against her palm and the same wide grin spread on her face. "Finally!" she snorted, and she moved her hand to Katara's shoulder and patted her - she'd had to stop punching Katara in the arm because Katara always went on about being rough with a baby on board.

After all, the baby hadn't kicked yet, and Sokka supposed this might be a milestone, so a smile even made its way to his face. "Maybe he can fight in the invasion if he keeps on kicking," he tried a joke on for size, but humor still didn't sit right with him when dealing with Katara.

Katara rolled her eyes with no regard for the fact that Sokka was actually speaking to her. "It's going to be a girl, Sokka," she insisted - as she did - and immediately Toph agreed.

"We all know girls are bigger pains in the butt than boys, so it has to be a girl," she smirked at Sokka, who glared at her - and she noticed this.

Sokka poked Toph in the arm, "Your opinion is exempt, because we all know you already know what it is."

"True," Toph took a long, self-satisfied blink, "But I'm never going to tell you. Because Katara said I wasn't allowed to."

Aang laughed out and plopped down to sit next to Katara. He leant down and put an ear to Katara's belly, causing her to laugh out. When he felt a subtle bump - almost nonexistent - against the side of his head, Aang jumped back as if the baby had kicked him in the jaw and he clutched at his face comically. "Ow, Katara! Control your child!" he joked lightheartedly.

Katara and Toph bowled over in fits of giggles. Sokka smiled reluctantly and turned back to the rock he'd been sharpening his boomerang against. Whenever it was that they next saw their father, he wasn't looking forward to it. Maybe he should write to him beforehand. Surely it couldn't be too hard to get a letter to him, and Katara had enough problems not to need to see shock on her father's face the moment they next saw one another.

Maybe it would be better for Katara to write to their father - Sokka couldn't begin to say he knew all the facts, probably because he hadn't wanted to ask. Yes.

He'd suggest that Katara write to their father, and maybe then things wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Haven't updated in ages, but I just realized how much I love this story and I had to. Review!  
><strong>


	5. Pain and Exhaustion

Things were going considerably worse than they had been, Sokka decreed to himself, while trekking through the desert, hallucinating on cactus juice. The cactus juice was not kind to him; at first the images it had shown him were happy and cheerful, but now they were painful. He was reminded of Yue, by the waning moon climbing the sky, and her beautiful face. He was reminded of his mother. He was reminded of the father he'd failed.

But Katara dragged them on. She had decided it was better to travel at night and sleep in the day, and she was right. Walking was not easy for her in her current state, but she trudged on, determined not to slow them down. She led her brother, and Toph, and Momo forward, while Aang marched on a good hundred yards ahead of them, unable to stand Toph. Katara drew a parallel between Aang's anger at Toph for losing Appa and Sokka's initial reaction to her being with child.

It would pass. Hopefully.

Toph, of course, was disheartened by Aang's enthusiastic ranting and blaming and general meanness, and took on a gloomy expression for the most part, though forcing herself to look strong when Katara glanced back to her. She couldn't be weak now - not when this was her fault. As strong as she was, or pretended to be, Katara was still stronger than her, in mind and determination. Toph supposed this was because she had something to protect.

Things were already bad, and they didn't need any more trouble.

So when Katara was jerked awake from sleep in the hot sun of the desert, clutching her middle and crying in pain, things got considerably worse. The others were up in a heartbeat, at her side, frantic with wide eyes, with no clue what to do. Sokka sobered up almost immediately, batting away fluttering images of shrouded figures and fiery attacks.

"What's wrong?" Sokka yelped in a panic, as his sister writhed in the dry, windblown sand.

Katara tossed her head wildly and clenched her teeth.

Sokka, still rather intoxicated, grabbed Toph roughly by the shirtfront and yelled in her face, "What's wrong, Toph? Is it the baby?" and then he made a kind of squeaking noise, "Is the baby coming _now?" _he shouted in a mad, panicked frenzy, shaking her roughly.

Toph brought up a hand and threw a fist into his face, knocking him over, his grip on her releasing immediately. She hoped this might sober him up further, having considered just slapping him and then deciding that wasn't enough. She dusted herself off and pulled a face, shooting Sokka a dirty look; she too was irritated in this hot hell. "Don't _ever _grab me like that again, Sokka," she hissed threateningly, and then added, "The baby isn't coming now. It's way too early. It's more likely a miscarriage," she frowned, her brows tilting and her expression moving to sadness.

Katara's cries broke for a low moan of protest to escape her, and tears escaped her eyes and slipped past her hairline. It was the closest thing to any kind of communication they were likely to get from her at this point.

Sokka smacked himself in the face, despite the fact that his mouth was bleeding from Toph's punch, in a desperate attempt to sober up. "I've _seen _a miscarriage, Toph," he was panting wildly, "Back home," he added, "But Katara's not bleeding so … so it can't be that, right?" Sokka looked up to where Aang was standing over them, his glider open for shade.

Toph's face scrunched, "I don't know," she put one hand on Katara's chest to hold her down in her writhing. "Hold still, Katara," she told her friend, who was sobbing by now, and she lifted her other hand to the swell of Katara's middle and felt for that heartbeat. She felt the steady pulse, sure and calm and not distressed at all. But _warm. _Very, _very _warm. Toph took her hand away and frowned hard; her palm had gone sweaty from the heat emanating from the baby.

Toph attributed this to the _real _father of the child.

But just as Toph's mind began to work on a solution to this problem, Katara's crying began to subside. At first, she thought Katara was dying or something, but Katara's breathing evened and she finally opened her eyes to stare into the sky, her breaths still labored. Sokka immediately began asking what was wrong, and Katara began to speak, rather calmly.

"It's okay, Sokka. It's okay, I'm fine; it's stopped," she insisted, exhaustion catching up with her. Katara put a hand on the bump and felt for a moment, until her face softened at the sensation of the baby kicking. Toph kept a hand on Katara's arm - it was almost impossible to see through the sand, but Katara's pulse made it easy to tell what she was doing.

Sokka's voice pierced the air. "_What's_ stopped?" he queried hopelessly.

"I don't know," Katara shook her head and rolled onto her side. "Just … go back to sleep," she breathed out a long sigh of pensive futility.

Toph guessed Katara knew what that might have been, and her calm silence now was to do with her thought process. It was Toph's opinion that Katara knew what this was, because she'd searched for information on such a thing while in the great library. Toph turned her head toward Aang, hoping he might have something to say on the matter, but she heard his feet crunching in the sand, away from them. She shut her eyes and sighed.

Toph sank to the sand again and attempted to fall back asleep - a simple task. She would've liked to say this troubled her enough to keep her awake, but at this point, nothing could keep her awake. She'd make Katara explain another time. Right now she needed sleep.

* * *

><p>The travels of Zuko and Iroh brought them to a little travel-stop town called Desert Oasis. It brought them into a seedy little bar filled with bounty hunters who somehow didn't recognize them from their wanted posters. Of course, few people checked the Fire Nation wanted posters posted around the place; fewer and fewer people wanted anything to do with the Fire Nation the further into the Earth Kingdom they traveled.<p>

Zuko had been irritated for the past few weeks; partially because his uncle had said he was far too turbulent _ever _learn to create lightning on his own, and partially because the trail on the Avatar had gone cold weeks ago. And the cake was taken when they walked into a bar only for his uncle to sit down to play Pai Sho. Hoping to catch a moment of peace, Zuko left the bar.

He stood outside and pushed his growing hair backward, just on force of habit; his hair was nowhere near long enough to need to be pushed out of his face, but he'd always been moving his Phoenix Tail about before he'd severed it. With a long and thoughtful breath of the cool, desert, night air, Zuko looked up and saw the moon shining down on the sandy town.

He was tired of traveling. He longed for a place to call home - he didn't care in this moment where that place might be; he just wanted to lie down to sleep one night and not have to move on in the morning.

"… Get rid of … flying bison?"

Zuko's eyes widened and his eyes darted around quickly, his posture not betraying his piqued interest.

Another voice replied - and Zuko guessed the two speaking were male, around his age, if not younger.

His left ear, for a change, caught the sound better than his right, and he moved toward the sound, subtly, just as if he were pacing idly. Looking to his left, he caught a board nailed to the wall outside the bar; with missing posters pinned to it, and they served the purpose of looking like something someone might want to browse over. What other bison could there possibly be in the world that could fly?

"… Good thing your father doesn't know …" the first voice came clearer.

The second one gave a single laugh, "He'd have my skin on a stick if he did."

Zuko moved toward the voices and peered down an alley between the bar and the next building over. They had their backs to him. Good. Zuko's feet worked fast and silent, and he was behind them so fast they didn't even have a _chance_ to get away. Zuko grabbed one of them by the shoulder and drew something from his hip in a split moment. They knew where the Avatar was, and that was the only thing on his mind.

He clutched the one he'd grabbed around the head and pulled his hand from his hip, the dagger his Uncle had sent him all those years ago flashing in the moonlight as he held it to the neck in his grasp. The other one backed away in a panic and stared in horror. He gasped and held his hands up. "Don't!" the sandbender yelped desperately; the one whose father would have his skin on a stick if he'd known what they'd done.

Zuko thought fast - he had Uncle to think about, as well as the fact that his face was probably on a wanted poster somewhere around here. "The flying bison you stole," Zuko rasped out quickly; how else would they have gotten it? The Avatar would never have _sold _it to them. "Where did you get it?" he pressed the sharp edge of his knife to the neck of his hostage.

The two were still for a moment, and then the hostage spoke up, sputtering and desperate, "Don't! Please- Don't!"

Zuko growled and pressed harder - drawing blood. "I _won't _if you tell me what I want to know," he seethed.

"Th-the desert!" the other one began quickly, "We got it in the desert! There was a … a blind girl!"

"Yeah!" the hostage agreed vehemently, "She was holding up a sinking building; there must have been people inside!"

Zuko's eyes narrowed and he thought about this for a long moment. The _Desert. _The Avatar's bison had been stolen while they were in the desert. Zuko released his hostage in a flash and began to wipe it on the cloth of his tunic, before he glanced at the bloodstain, hearing the two running away from him, down the alley. His uncle would spot the stain in a second.

He put his knife in his left hand and brought the blade to his right fingertip and winced as he broke the skin, then proceeded to wipe the knife again and wipe the blood on his finger in the same bloody spot on his tunic.

He remembered a phrase some of the men on his ship had used when someone said the Avatar was probably paranoid. _'You're not paranoid if they really are trying to kill you' _and he smiled reluctantly, thinking about his men, some of whom had died in Admiral Zhao's foolish attack on the Northern Water Tribe.

When his uncle asked, he'd have a plausible lie already made up. He'd accidentally cut his finger on his knife, was all that had happened. He moved back out into the street, putting his knife back into the slot for it on his sword sheath, and brought the cut on his finger to his mouth to suck on it. His mind turned to the Avatar, and he looked out to the cloudless sky. He knew _he _wouldn't want to be … stranded … in the desert …

Realization suddenly dawned on him.

Zuko's mind immediately turned to the water tribe girl; against his will, of course. He hadn't yet had the chance to tell her how to make sure she didn't _die _carrying his … ah, _her _child. What if … what if the baby really _was _a firebender, and was burning her while she trekked through the desert? Even putting the baby aside; what if they never made it out of the desert alive?

His once ticket home would be lost. And Katara would be dead.

Zuko tried his best to put this aside. If he knew anything about the Avatar, it was that he would survive against all odds; he'd done it in the blizzard at the North Pole, and he could do it in the desert too. And when the hell had it become _his _job to worry about Katara's survival? It was none of his business. _He_ hadn't stolen their bison.

He stepped back into the bar and saw Iroh and his opponent playing calmly, putting together some kind of pattern on the board. Zuko wouldn't tell his uncle about this little piece of information; he'd probably just get in trouble for using the threat of death as leverage against two people who had really just been children.

That image that had come to him the night after his uncle had been injured flashed in his head again; him and a little waterbending girl with bright blue eyes playing in the palace garden at home, splashing water from the turtle-duck pond at one another. Home; oh, how he missed his home. Zuko leant against the wall and shut his eyes briefly, thinking back to that turtle-duck pond.

"_Zuko, that's what moms are like. If you mess with their babies …" _he remembered his mother making a playful biting noise, _"they'll bite you back!"_

He suppressed the smile that sprang to his face at the thought of his mother. His train of thought broke off. He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of sleeping in the dirt and eating scraps.

He was just so damn tired.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As you can see, this story is really growing on me and making me keep writing it. Shorter chapter, but things will get a hella-lot more progressive once they get to Ba Sing Se. Review!**


	6. Shame and Worry

Six months. Katara found it easier to put it that way - six months in with three months to go was a lot less daunting than twenty-five weeks in with fifteen more left ahead of her. They ran into Suki - in a completely random turn of events - at the port to Ba Sing Se, and she was extremely surprised to find that Katara was not only pregnant, but heavily so. However, Suki did a wonderful job of keeping her surprise in and expressing only celebration and joy for the new life growing in Katara's womb.

The symptoms Katara had felt in the desert never made themselves apparent to the others after that, except Toph. Toph knew - no matter how well Katara hid it, Toph was always able to tell by the way Katara's pulse hammered in her veins and the subtle tension in her upper back as she hunched against the burning pain. Katara knew this; she knew Toph knew, but she was also sure that Toph would never tell another living soul.

But by hell, was it painful. When it hit, it was like fire in her middle - probably because it really was. Katara only barely survived to the end of the spell, where she'd have to stop and take a seat. Sokka and Aang didn't question - baby on board meant not pushing too hard. They understood that golden rule, and this was good. Katara would curse Zuko's name in her head each time it hit - it felt like his fire, despite that he'd never burnt her before.

So they ran into Suki, and there was much ado, and then they had tickets to Ba Sing Se. All was well.

Then they became aware of a family whose tickets had been stolen, and they were unable to keep themselves from helping. They set off to cross the Serpent's Pass. Helping people was the Avatar's duty, and nobody really could argue when Aang agreed to help the family. After all, this family too had a child on the way; they would want the same kindness if the roles had been reversed.

Katara was immediately tense with another pregnant woman traveling with them. Especially with Ying being further along than her. For so long, she'd been the pregnant one in the group - not that she expected Sokka to get up and announce that he was having a baby or anything - and she'd always been the mother of the group, and now it was a little strange to imagine someone else having the same little irks and surprises.

Ying, being further along in her pregnancy, quite enthusiastically took up the task of philosophizing with Katara over the creation of life; after all, nobody else around knew the little irritations and kinks of pregnancy. Katara was apprehensive at first, but she slowly grew receptive to Ying's advice and decrees.

"And the _cravings! _Seriously, I would never, ever, _ever _have touched a moonpeach in my _life, _before I got pregnant!" Ying was continuing her list of abnormalities associated with pregnancy. "But now? I am _crazy _about them. They are completely disgusting, and I still hate them, but I can't stop eating them!" she shook her head in futility.

This, of course, had happened to Katara too; in fact, she'd been craving papayas for the past four months, despite the fact that she'd always hated them. Granted, she hadn't eaten much of papaya at the South Pole, but she knew she hated them from the first, second and third tries she'd given to tasting it while traveling with Aang. Katara looked to Ying, who was smiling wanly and patting her belly happily. Katara hadn't expected to be this happy for someone who knew the trials of creating life to talk to.

Katara immediately agreed with Ying. "Tell me about it; I can't stand papayas, but apparently, she can," the waterbender gestured to her belly quite casually as they walked, while munching on one of the many rice balls Ying's husband, Than had packed for the journey. Katara looked to the rice ball and then to Ying and decided she should thank them for letting her eat their food. "Thanks again for these - they're amazing."

Ying smiled fondly at Katara, looking away in a way that told her something was off. "Don't worry about it; anything to help another mother in need. It's the least we could do after all you and your friends have done for us …" she trailed off pensively.

Katara frowned thoughtfully and glanced to Ying, and then to herself. What was wrong? She glanced again between herself and Ying, and then she paused. Standing behind Ying, her husband was careful always to keep a watchful eye on his pregnant wife, no matter what. Katara's curious frown softened and then a look of realization and painful understanding washed over her face.

She was an unwed teenaged mother. That's what Ying was thinking.

Katara let the crumbs of the vanished rice ball fall through her fingers and subconsciously put her arms around her middle, feeling self-conscious. She didn't know if Ying felt pity for her, or distaste - like many had expressed through their travels - but Katara didn't want Ying to think of her as an irresponsible teenager who'd jumped into the deep end without a moment's forethought. Or maybe it was just that the truth was painful.

In a few hours, Ying's opinion had grown important to Katara, and the idea of Ying thinking ill of her kind of hurt.

It wasn't that Katara didn't love her baby; after all, it was her child! She would love her child no matter what, even if it was born with no legs, or no arms, or if it was deaf, blind, mute, retarded and ugly as hell. She loved her baby despite Zuko. Despite the fact that half of this baby was a figurehead of everything that had ruined her life in the past, she loved her baby and she would protect her baby from anything. She'd die for her child, and she had to stay alive for her child.

She wouldn't have changed a single thing she'd done that night with Zuko, not even now. She had no regrets; accepting the reality had just made things easier.

Katara hadn't thought about Zuko in a while. She'd resolved that this baby was hers and hers alone, and thinking about Zuko would only make it easier for Sokka or Aang to guess the truth; she held no illusions that Toph was blind to it. Toph saw more than anyone else in their troupe, ironically. Either way, this baby was her responsibility, hers alone.

She hadn't cared before about what anyone might think of her; the opinions of Earth Kingdom nobles, age-old wisdom spirits and chattering merchants had washed over Katara and faded away, meaningless. Something sharp and painful stabbed in Katara's chest. She felt somewhat ashamed. She smiled reluctantly at Ying, hoping to come off as calm and collected, and sped up to walk alongside Toph.

"What's happenin', Sugar Queen … and company … ?" Toph greeted calmly, as soon as Katara was next to her.

Katara began to immediately relax at Toph's casual greeting. "Not much. Just figured you were bored of walking in silence."

Toph smirked; knowing Katara was a horrible liar, but not wanting to say anything. "Oh, no," she drawled sarcastically, "I was really enjoying listening to you and that lady talking about cravings, cramps, kicks, mood-swings, hormones, baby names, girls, boys, first steps and-,"

Katara laughed out merrily - louder than Toph's usual ranting was cause for. The blind girl would've shot her a look, except that … er, well, the thing about looks were that you had to know what you were looking _at. _Katara's laughter faded to a nervous giggle and she eventually just frowned and watched the dirt under her feet as the walked. Toph's hand came against her back and she looked to her blind friend.

Toph didn't say anything - probably because there was nothing to say. Katara was grateful anyway.

* * *

><p>After months of traveling, Zuko and his uncle finally made it to the port to Ba Sing Se. As if he hadn't been sick enough of poverty, Zuko found himself surrounded by it now. He recalled having been averse to the idea of entering Ba Sing Se to hide from the Fire Nation, but he'd learnt that his uncle had an answer for everything over the weeks of traveling with him. Iroh came off as a foolish old man, but Zuko realized now just how wily his uncle was.<p>

Of course, they would have to wait their turn for a few hours until they were able to get on the ferry to the great city, just sitting around.

After perhaps two hours, waiting began to irritate Zuko; it was high noon and their ferry wasn't scheduled to leave until the early evening, or arrive in Ba Sing Se until the next morning. Uncle had scored them tickets with nothing but their fake travel documents and his quick-witted charm - albeit nearly making the banished prince vomit - so they had nothing to worry about. It was just the _waiting._

Sitting around doing nothing was a complete waste of time!

Zuko had been getting more and more agitated with sitting still for the last few weeks; he'd documented it himself. He'd been restless and antsy and irritated with waiting for more than a ten minute period for something to happen. He'd been up early each morning, with everything packed to move on before his uncle was even awake while they'd been traveling. Looking to where the older man sat beside him, Zuko knew Iroh was impressed with how long he'd survived waiting the first two hours without complaining.

He stood up and frowned at his elder. "I'm going for a walk," he told him dryly.

Iroh only nodded impartially and continued to wait in silence.

Zuko turned away, a sour look on his face. His uncle was still displeased with him for Katara. The old man tried to hide it, and act like nothing was wrong, but Zuko knew he was still ashamed of his actions. He was unsure whether or not he blamed his uncle either. He walked around the massive campsite, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. He'd been desperately trying to get on his uncle's good side in the months since that talk at the campfire, and still, nothing changed.

Zuko shook this off and continued to walk; he had to think about something else - something less depressing. He found a spot with a lot of light and sat down on the ground, with his back to the cave-like walls of this hidden cove, reaching into his pack and drawing out one of the few things he'd bought for himself during his travels in the Earth Kingdom; a small carving knife, sharp and short, but perfect for whittling.

From the same pack, he drew out something he'd been working on for a few weeks now, intermittently. He hadn't wanted his Uncle to see it, because he didn't want to remind his uncle of Katara, or her child. Over the past few weeks, mainly at night, he'd been carving a wooden turtle-duckling in his spare time. There had of course, been other wooden shapes, mainly for practice, but this one he struggled between wanting to work on and wanting to throw away.

He eyed it for a moment, and turned the crude shape in his hand; it was nowhere near done. _'Why am I carving this?' _he asked himself repetitively, but he always got the same evasive answer, _'Because I want to'. _Sometimes he got to the point of asking himself _why _he wanted to make a wooden turtle-duckling, but he never got an answer. He sighed heavily and slipped it back into his pack.

Zuko kept the knife in his right hand and used the left to shuffle in his pack for one of the pieces of wood he'd collected for whittling practice over the past few months, and he started plucking away little chips before he even knew what he was trying to make.

"Hey mister!"

He hissed between his teeth at the way his knife had wedged itself between his thumb and thumbnail, slowly prying it out and letting it bleed for a moment before sighing and covering it with his other hand and looking up. Zuko saw two children standing in front of him, watching curiously; one looked to be a little boy of about four, the other a girl of about ten, holding the hand of the younger one.

"Hey, mister, what are you making?" the girl asked, tilting her head inquisitively.

Zuko drew his shoulders up and shrugged. "I don't know."

She frowned immediately. "Well then, how will you know when you finish it?"

A smile reluctantly found its way to Zuko's face, "When it looks like something."

The girl, finding his smile a good sign, continued, "It looks like something to me already, though. It looks like a piece of wood."

"Well I don't want it just to be a piece of wood."

"Why not?" she stepped closer and plucked the piece of wood from his dry, rough hands, turning it and then waving it around briefly and holding it out to him. "It looks like a _good _piece of wood," she smirked, happy with her reasoning.

Zuko's smile faltered as he thought about it. "Well …" he began, his mind questioning this. "I guess … it would just be better if it looked like something else," he suggested pensively, taking the piece of wood back.

The girl immediately let go of her brother's hand to put her hands on her hips and groan in annoyance. "Why? Who says it'd be better?" she stamped her foot.

Zuko continued whittling at the wood as he spoke, ignoring the drying blood on his left thumb. "I don't have the answer to that," he spoke up, his eyes downward. "But I know what I'm making now," he frowned down at the proverbial piece of wood.

"Oh yeah?" she felt her brother tugging at her skirt, but she swatted his hand away.

"Yes."

"What?"

"I'm making a toy boat. You and your brother can have it when I'm done," he explained monotonously.

The little girl smiled. "Oh. Well, when you put it that way …" she trailed off, and she turned to look at her brother.

The noise she next made had Zuko alert in a flash. She drew the sharpest breath anyone had ever drawn in the history of ever, and Zuko first looked up and then saw her looking away from him into the makeshift street between rows of tents and refugee campsites in the cove. The piece of wood and the knife fell to the floor and Zuko lunged for the little boy.

A large, dry, rough hand caught a small elbow and yanked it out of the way of the speeding ostrich-horse cart. The banished prince took three long, quick steps back, away from where the cart had whizzed by only moments ago. If his reflexes hadn't been as sharp as they were, the kid could've been knocked down and flattened in an instant.

His eyes were wide with wonder as they watched the cart continue away from them. The younger child was propped to him, sat on his forearm with his face pressed into his shoulder, hiding, and the girl was standing, facing him with huge eyes and a relieved look washing over her face. Zuko was unsure if it was the boy in his arms shaking, or him, but he knew that had been a close call.

"Omi!" the girl ran to Zuko and looked up to where her brother was clutching Zuko and beginning to cry. "Don't you ever walk off like that again!" she screeched in a panic.

Zuko drew his own relieved breath and took a long blink, lifting his other hand to pat the kid on his shuddering back. "Well, that was … random," he spoke up awkwardly, looking down to the girl, who was rubbing at her face and shaking her head and just generally expressing disbelief. He smiled crookedly and turned his eyes back to Omi.

"Thanks, mister," the girl breathed out, "You just saved my little brother from being squished like a bug."

He was extremely aware of the boy's fists clenching on the fabric of his robes as he patted his back soothingly. "Don't mention it," he replied stiffly, moving to set the boy down, but only succeeding in making the little boy's grip on him grow tighter. The boy sobbed into his shoulder, particularly shaken by both nearly being killed and being yanked out of the way. The heel of his hand still on the boy's back, Zuko lifted his fingers and saw that they were shaking.

He sighed and continued to pat the kid's back for a while, still in awe of how quickly the boy could've ceased to be. He honestly couldn't believe it - in a flash, it could've all been over. The girl had just turned her back for a moment. Eventually Zuko put the boy back down, and sat down on the dirt again. The girl and her brother sat with him too, in silence, as he continued whittling the shape of a simple fisherman's boat into the wood, deep in thought.

He gave them their boat and the two ran off to find their father. Zuko was glad to see them go. He didn't know if he could stand worrying about them for much longer.

Zuko wondered what it might be like to worry about a kid non-stop, every day for fifteen years, and ended up just shaking his head, unable to find an answer for that question. He didn't need to worry about strangers' children; he had enough to worry about, like getting into Ba Sing Se, not being found by the Fire Nation, his one last ticket home getting blown to bits by the aforementioned, not to mention _Katara_ …

Dammit!

Zuko got up and marched back toward where his uncle had been. No matter how much he told himself she wasn't his problem, she kept getting in his head and bothering him! Honestly; there was no reason to worry about her; she was a waterbending _master, _as well as traveling with two other bending masters, one of which happened to be the Avatar … if there was a safer person than her in the entire world, Zuko would've been surprised. And yet he worried.

She was safe, and he was stressed, and everything would get better as soon as they got into the city. It had to.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ba Sing Se is just around the corner. Which means Jet. Which means FUN. :D  
><strong>


	7. Insomnia and Reunion

Ba Sing Se, Zuko had realized over the last few days, was called the greatest city on Earth for a reason. Everyone here seemed to be convinced of that little trinket of information. Granted, everyone here - or at least in the lower ring - also thought the best way to heal a love bite was to press on it. There was one doctor, healer, medicine-person, what-have-you, for every thousand people, it seemed; Zuko had only seen one clinic in the whole lower ring so far.

Uncle seemed to be rather convinced it was the greatest place on earth too, and this was especially annoying, in Zuko's opinion.

He wanted more than this; more than a job serving tea, a shabby apartment and two nice sets of clothing.

Zuko was still confused as to why his uncle had thought it might be a good idea for him to go on a date with some random girl who'd had a crush on him, from the teashop. What good could possibly come from that? He resolved that his uncle was probably trying to show him something he'd overlooked, but despite having a place to call home now, and a fixed, steady life, Zuko was still tired; too tired to want to put together his uncle's proverbs and metaphors.

"I don't want to make a life here," Zuko remembered having told his uncle.

"Life happens wherever you are, whether or not you make it," his uncle had replied coolly.

Zuko put this aside, as he sat in his room chipping away parts of the wood of the crude turtle-duckling shape in his dry, rough hands. Why would he want to make a life here? It was dirty and desperate here; he'd seen the muggings that went on around this place, and he'd only barely managed to ward off a gang who'd tried to rob him, too. He'd already been pickpocketed, twice.

Perhaps he and his uncle weren't on the same page with what they considered 'making a life'. Maybe his uncle thought 'making a life' meant dating; which, for most boys his age might have been correct, but over the course of their travels, Zuko had come to believe 'making a life' held a much more long-term meaning than that. Even putting all other things aside, in the long run, who the hell in their right mind would want to start a life - start a family - here?

Zuko put the knife and the turtle-duckling down, glancing out to the night sky. He guessed it was about time he went to sleep, but he'd been having trouble falling asleep lately, and he'd hoped that if he stayed up long enough, he'd get tired enough that sleep wouldn't be hard to come by. He grabbed the knife and wooden bird and slipped them into his pack again, and then slid that under his cot.

He leant back and then dropped to the straw mattress, shutting his eyes and tucking his hands under his head with a heavy sigh. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Twenty. Zuko rolled onto his side and blinked his eyes open again. He'd allowed himself recently to let Katara bother him for a short while. Not for long; just a little longer than he'd been allowing before.

Instead of banishing her to the back of his mind the second he thought about her, he would let her sit there for a moment; just as a serene image, with one hand over a large bump in her middle, sad blue eyes and an even sadder smile. It had been six months since that night on the riverbank; give or take a week or two. Zuko had hoped she might be lucky; that their child might not be a firebender.

But he was never lucky, and so, neither would she be.

At this point, the burning pains she would be experiencing at this point would be close to unbearable; hard to conceal, as Zuko assumed she would try to do. She had probably lied to her friends about him, about the father of the child. Zuko wouldn't have blamed her either; who would welcome a Water Tribe girl with a firebending child anywhere? Zuko felt a bittersweet feeling in his chest.

She was like him now.

Granted, Zuko had learnt in school that the Water Tribes were kinder to their prisoners of war than the Earth Kingdom were, and that the Southern Tribe exceeded the Northern in this trait as well, so perhaps even with a firebending child, she might be accepted in her home. Being the tribe's only waterbender might have come to her aid too, if they ever tried to exile her.

Then again, the Water Tribes were the only people now who might show him mercy; the Earth Kingdom wanted him dead, and the Fire Nation wanted him as a prisoner. They'd do the same for one of their own, most likely. But still. She was like him now; he knew from experience that the Earth Kingdom was not kind to firebenders, and he knew the Fire Nation wouldn't even allow a waterbender past the Gates of Azulon.

Zuko turned his mind to the night on the riverbank; sweat on her smooth, exotic skin, his name on her soft lips, and the taunting way she told him to …

"… _Take off your pants, Prince Zuko; before I change my mind."_

He grumbled a soft, "Dammit," under his breath and rolled back onto his back, lifting his hand and covering both eyes with it. He'd passed the stage of just hoping she would leave his mind. Instead he asked himself _why _she was in his head, now of all times? She plagued his mind more persistently than any other demon of his, aside from the Avatar. She plagued him in soft whispers and warmhearted chuckles that he heard in his head, almost turning physically to look for the source of the noise.

She didn't come to him as an enemy, never with ill intention, though her presence in his mind irked him and picked at his own confidence in his sanity.

He wished for sleep to come, but it just wouldn't. His insomnia pushed his mind through the night on the riverbank, and then it pushed him through the unclear images of the fight at the North Pole against Katara, and then through the first time he'd seen it; the bump in her middle. Then it took him back through the night on the riverbank again, until he commanded his mind to just _let him sleep._

Reluctantly, the wakefulness passed, and he fell into a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Things were still going terrible, but Katara had learnt that she should just accept this. If she got upset over every little thing, as her raging hormones wanted her to, she'd never survive this, and survival was of paramount importance. But when things began rapidly deteriorating as a result of running into Jet, of all people, Katara decided it was about time she let herself understand just how badly things were going.<p>

For starters, Jet went wide-eyed and shocked at the bulge at her belly, and he put his swords down, refusing to fight a 'lady with a baby', so she couldn't kick his ass, even though he really would have deserved it for trying to drown a town full of people. True, she did try to attack him after he sheathed his weapons, but she stopped, crossed her arms and grumbled instead, unable to fight an unarmed man.

Katara had wanted desperately to wipe that shocked expression off his face, and make him stop _staring _at her belly, but she'd closed her water-skin already and resolved not to harm him unless he made a move for his swords, or any other kind of move that might have been harmful to her or the baby.

After that little fiasco - as if things could have gotten worse - after the sound of the fighting, Aang, and Sokka, and Toph came running to see what was going on, only to see Jet standing there, cornered in an alley by a furious, but indecisive waterbender. That was where the real problems erupted. Toph wore the smuggest grin Katara had ever seen on the earthbender's face, as she counted off the seconds before all hell broke loose.

And all hell _did _break loose.

Sokka lunged for Jet and socked him in the jaw with a left hook. Katara shouted in a panic at her brother, but she went unheard, as Toph leant against the wall, smirking, just enjoying the show. Sokka tackled the taller boy to the floor, right knuckles and then left ones coming smashing into different angles of the freedom fighter's face.

Katara smacked a hand to her face, in disbelief for what she'd caused. She owed Jet an apology now; her brother was trying to kill the guy for something he hadn't done. Another one of Sokka's flying fists smashed into Jet's stomach, resulting in a loud groan to tumble past his lips. Katara winced for him, looking shamefaced.

Aang grabbed for Sokka's arm to get him off Jet - he'd kill him if this went on too long - only to get thrown back into Toph, who caught the Avatar swiftly with one arm.

"I think you should just let them talk with their fists, Twinkletoes," Toph told him, biting back the laughter behind her lips.

Of course, Jet wasn't fighting back, just staring wildly as Sokka beat down on him, only gaining his bearings enough to grab Sokka's arms and throw him off for a moment so he could get to his feet - he didn't want to fight Sokka, but he didn't want to die, either. The water tribe boy lunged for him again, but Jet veered out of the way and grabbed his elbow, focusing his eyes after being so thoroughly disoriented.

"Sokka, stop! I'm not here to fight you guys!" he exclaimed suddenly over a cut on his lower lip, breathing hard, one of his eyes beginning to swell from one of Sokka's better-aimed punches.

Sokka swung his other arm, only to get that fist caught too. He thrashed to get at Jet, but the freedom fighter's grip was too tight. "You son of a bitch!" Sokka screamed into Jet's face, still struggling against the grip. "I'll have your head on a pole for what you did to my sister!" he drew his head back quickly, and Katara gasped long before anyone else knew what Sokka was about to do.

With a dull thudding noise, Sokka's forehead smashed into Jet's, and the latter went sprawling back, his hands releasing Sokka immediately to grab his head.

Sokka rubbed his own head, not having headbutted anyone since he'd been a kid. He felt a lump growing on his forehead under his fingers, and grimaced subsequently, but then he advanced on Jet again, only to be stopped by a firm but tentative grip on his upper arm. He looked over his shoulder to see Katara holding him back.

Jet, his consciousness finally beginning to focus, blinked wearily and looked up at Katara, who was speaking in hushed tones with her brother. His mind began to put the pieces together and his brow furrowed. She'd done something stupid - who hadn't? - And her mistake had cost her big time. She'd spent a night with a man, and she'd ended up in a sensitive situation.

'… _What you did to my sister!'_

It made a little more sense. To save herself even more trouble, she'd told her brother and friends that _he _was the father of her baby. Yes, she'd lied, but Jet didn't feel hostility toward her right now; he had a feeling she had it a lot harder than a few punches and a headbutt from Sokka. People staring down their nose at her everywhere she went, cramps, stress and hormones were only a few of the problems Jet imagined she had to deal with on a daily basis.

Jet had always cared about Katara; now was his chance to prove it.

"Sokka, stop," she told him, mixed emotion on her face.

Sokka's brow furrowed and he stood, shooting his sister a hard look. He glanced back to Jet. "What do you want here? What are you doing in Ba Sing Se?" he demanded in an interrogating voice. Katara tapped him again on the arm.

"Sokka, maybe you guys should let me and Jet talk," Katara suggested, a kind of pensive exhaustion writing itself on her face.

Jet, however, shook his head and staggered to his feet, one hand still on his forehead. "Ow," he grunted, rubbing his head, "No, he's in the right. I deserve what I got," Jet swallowed a metallic taste in his mouth and let his brown eyes fall on Sokka. "And worse," he added, "But I had no idea this had happened, Sokka," he gestured to Katara's belly. "I didn't know Katara was … pregnant."

Katara stared at Jet for a moment, disbelieving. Her brows tilted and she fixed her blue eyes on Jet. How? How could he be so _kind? _He would take the blame for something he wouldn't do … just … just to make things easier for her? Katara felt a lump in her throat. No. No, this had to be a trick; he wanted to get on her good side for some reason. But then … what good could there possibly be in saying that? What could he possibly gain from telling everyone - her friends - that he'd fathered her child?

Katara remembered feeling this way when Toph had been kind to her, that night she'd told the others that she was with child; happy and sad, and ashamed and guilty, all at once.

"Jet," Katara heard herself breathing out, her surprise already written on her face. Then she quickly shook her head and brought her hands to her face.

Toph, of course, knew something was up; this Jet character was lying, of course, and Katara was on the verge of crying. Sokka was breathing hard through his nostrils, still undecided on whether or not he wanted to maim Jet. Aang's stormy gray eyes were darting all over the place; from Katara, to Sokka, to Jet, to Toph, and then back to Jet again. Toph knew Aang had a crush on Katara that he was desperately trying to suppress, and she wondered if it was in play.

Katara shook her head and regained herself. "What are you doing in Ba Sing Se?" she asked quickly.

Jet stood a little straighter. "I came here for a fresh start. I don't even have the freedom fighters anymore," he reached for his hip and drew something from his belt. He unraveled one of the missing posters for Appa. "I want to help you guys find Appa," he told them, his face the picture of adamant determination.

Katara looked to Sokka, who frowned and then grumbled, and then gave her a futile nod. Her gaze turned to Toph, who nodded calmly, too. Then she looked to Aang, who nodded as well, though with a sour expression on his face, and his gray eyes fixed distrustfully on Jet. The waterbender sighed and smiled reluctantly at Jet. "Tell us what you know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wanted to be nice to Jet, because I think he really is a good guy, when it comes down to it. You'll really like him more as the chapters go on. It's picking up a little bit as we draw nearer to the crossroads of destiny, where it all goes down. By picking up, I mean moving slower (oddly enough) and moving more toward actual scenes and not just rambling chapters of thought process. Review!**


	8. Kindness

Why? Why would Jet have done that for her? Why would he outright lie to her friends, just to have her back - just to back up her story? Katara tried to figure it out on her own, but all she could come up with was that he had to have a hidden agenda. Even after discovering that the Dai Li had brainwashed Jet, all Katara could think was that he had something to gain from that lie.

Katara couldn't let that lie go on, if this was true.

Oh, but the idea of telling the truth was daunting; she could imagine it now. Sokka never speaking to her ever again, and Aang … things were bad enough with Aang just with the idea that Jet was the father. Katara couldn't imagine how much worse they'd get if two-thirds of the way through the pregnancy, the story she'd made up to protect herself and her baby fell apart.

The only person she'd honestly told the truth to was her father, in a manner. Before they'd gotten into the city, they'd stopped in a small town with a messenger-bird service. She'd sent her father a letter, explaining everything. Down to the very last detail, almost.

She'd told him about Zuko stealing her necklace, and the night on the riverbank, and when she'd figured it out at the North Pole, and Toph being so kind, and the pains the baby was causing her. Katara had never received a letter in return. She was unsure whether this was because he couldn't get a letter into the city, or because … because he was so deeply ashamed of her that he just couldn't put his shame into words on paper.

Telling the truth to everyone else was an absolute last-ditch resort. So she had to be sure Jet's lie - or rather, hers - was a safe one.

While the others were discussing their game plan for entering this 'hidden base' under Lake Laogai, Katara slipped out of the room and went to find Jet, who'd been left out of the strategizing on fear of being brainwashed to attack them at any moment. This of course, was Sokka's little trinket of suspicion and conspiracy, though not so outrageous, when you really thought about it.

Katara stepped down the hall with warm, bare feet. She had found it more comfortable over the last few weeks to walk barefoot; shoes hurt her feet, for some reason, and her feet and hands were always ridiculously warm during the day. She'd written it off as something to do with the baby's true sire. Other changes to her attire included a new tunic she'd bought to accommodate the slope in her middle; with a waistline just under her bust, loose sleeves, light, cloudy-blue fabric and a skirt that only came to her knees, over her dark blue leggings.

Katara quietly entered the room they'd allotted for Jet, and shut the door behind her. She turned and saw him sitting on a straw mattress on the floor.

"Katara," he tilted his head in surprise, "I thought everyone was-,"

"Why did you lie for me?" Katara crossed her arms, shooting him a suspicious look, her features hardening unrelentingly.

A look of surprise washed over Jet's face, and then he sighed through his nose, standing up. He took a moment to put his thoughts into words, and then he put his hands on his hips, smiling wanly. "I figured you didn't need any more problems. It …" he looked down for a moment and then back to her, "It must have been hard; trekking across the Earth Kingdom, with a baby to protect."

Katara's brows tilted softly. So few people had shown her kindness in these past few months, she'd felt that every good thing that happened for her would be followed up with a bad one; and in some respect, she was right. She nodded stiffly and looked away, feeling her eyes filling with saltwater. "Oh," she replied meekly.

Jet caught the crack in her voice. "Are you crying?" he asked suddenly.

Katara waved a hand at the air and blinked back tears. "Sorry, it's these … stupid hormones," she smiled reluctantly, swallowing back this surge of emotion.

Jet smiled at her. "Don't apologize," he took a step closer so he could put a hand on her shoulder. A small, bittersweet smile took his face over, followed by a sad frown. He opened his mouth to ask something, then stopped and shut his mouth again. Jet lifted his other hand to his cheek and rubbed at where Sokka has punched him earlier, deep in thought. "Do you … do you mind me asking who he was?"

Katara drew a breath from her nose and glanced looked over her shoulder to be sure the door was still shut, and that they weren't being eavesdropped upon. "By 'he', I guess you mean the real father," Katara laid a hand on the slope of her belly and stroked for a moment. Jet nodded, and Katara sighed pensively, thinking where to begin.

Honestly, where _did _she begin? She'd never put the truth into words before. Never had to.

Did she start with the night on the riverbank, days before they'd met Jet for the first time? Or way back at the beginning; at the South Pole?

Katara started with a long breath and blinked, blue eyes searching brown ones. "It was before we met you," she began slowly, "by about two days, I think. He was the reason I was wearing a scarf the entire time, 'cause the asshole thought it would be funny to leave a love bite on me," she lowered her voice to let a swear slip into her words, and she smiled slightly at this, despite the seriousness of all things.

Jet nodded thoughtfully. "I remember that," he murmured, as if in awe of this simple point.

"Mm," Katara replied calmly, "It was consensual, for starters," she shot him a look, and he gave an awkward smile of acknowledgement, "And I _had _met him before, so as bad as the whole thing was, at least I didn't screw a complete stranger," Katara found herself listing all the _good _things about that night in her head, and it felt good, too, to get it off her chest. "I mean, I hadn't really _spoken _to him before, but we'd crossed paths numerous times," she made an 'and so on' gesture with one hand.

Katara watched his face for a moment, and he tilted his head, knowing she was getting at something he couldn't quite catch.

The waterbender sighed. "I think that's about it," she spoke in a hushed tone, keeping her blue eyes fixed on his. Jet continued rubbing at his war wounds thoughtfully, and he smiled mildly at her. Katara's lips parted and she shook her head at him for a moment.

Jet spoke up before she could run her head into loops. "Okay," he nodded calmly, pensively; running nimble fingers over bruises and cuts on his face. He thought about something for a moment and then sighed heavily, his smile becoming bittersweet. "I uh … I really did care about you, back then," he looked away, bringing his fingers to his chin to run over a cut on his lip. "I'm just realizing that I never really had a shot."

Katara's brow furrowed and she thought about this too. "Yeah," Katara murmured thoughtfully, her blue eyes moving down from his averted brown ones to look ahead, at his chest. He seemed rather sad about this, and she shook her head. She wanted to be able to tell him that if things had turned out differently, he could have had her; that she'd have fallen for him. But she didn't know this was true. She had unfinished business with Zuko, whether or not she ever saw him again.

The idea of living to be one hundred, with her half-breed child at her side, never having resolved that unfinished business niggled at the back of her mind, and Katara felt sick. Katara wondered when it had been that her heart had held onto the banished prince, and how it had slipped past her common sense.

Jet's hand squeezed her shoulder. "I hope you have a good life, Katara. You'll be an amazing mother."

Katara's blue gaze returned to Jet's warm brown one. "Thank you, Jet. For everything."

Jet smiled a bittersweet smile.

* * *

><p>In the final minutes of his life, Jet was unaware of pain. His fingers went numb, as did his toes, and anything beyond a feeling of serenity and peace, he was blind to. He breathed raggedly, but it didn't hurt; the same went for the beating of his heart. In some corner of his mind, as it shut down, he knew many of these things should have hurt, but they didn't. Long Feng got away, but that was of no consequence.<p>

"This isn't good," Katara spoke from above him, her hands a healing glow atop his torso, beneath which ribs were displaced and cracked, and blood ran in hidden streams. Jet heard the sadness in her voice, and beyond it, there was fear and grief and worry. Jet felt a wave of strange emotion run through him; perhaps now, she finally loved him in return.

Smellerbee's voice came from above, louder and harsher; she too was panicked and grave. "You guys go find Appa," the freedom fighter looked to Longshot. "We'll take care of Jet."

Katara shook her head immediately, and Jet caught it with unfocused eyes. "We're not going to leave you," he heard her voice, like music through a muted fog.

Jet caught her blue gaze staring down at him; her brows tilted in worry and fear. Longshot, whose voice Jet had only heard once before, spoke up in a deliberate and serious tone, and the others glanced to him for a moment. Jet felt his hands, beyond his knuckles, going cold and numb at once, and he even winced at the strange sensation. He wasn't afraid. He would see his parents again, right? What was there to be afraid of?

"There's no time. Just go. We'll take care of him. He's our leader."

Jet's voice broke the silence in the aftermath of Longshot's words. "Go, Katara. I'll be fine," he shut his eyes, and pulled a weak smile. Beyond the darkness that came when his heavy eyelids fell closed, Katara voice cracked in the beginning of a response, but then broke off wordlessly. Something occurred to Jet in that moment, and he cracked his eyes open again. His blurry vision settled on Sokka, and he considered for a moment.

Sokka was still watching him apprehensively, though thoughtfully.

Jet considered the lie Katara would hold forever if he died here. If he died, the truth would die with him, even if he had no idea what it was. That 'if' was rapidly becoming a 'when' in his mind; the chances of living through the numbed injuries he'd sustained depleting with each passing moment. "S- …" Jet paused and drew a sharp breath; the numbness parted for a moment for him to feel a stabbing pain in his chest. "Sokka," he fixed his gaze on Katara's older brother.

Sokka's gaze softened somewhat.

Katara frowned in confusion, unaware of his intention.

Another long pause ensued, before Jet continued. He couldn't let her carry a secret like that for the rest of her life. She wouldn't see it as a kindness now, but it would be. Jet knew it was a kindness to tell the truth, and that was enough for him. "I'm not … I'm not the father," he winced again, that sharp pain returning to his chest. Sokka opened his mouth to protest, but the blind one interjected, and Katara went silent.

"He's telling the truth," Toph spoke up mildly, her tone akin to that of a confession. Jet guessed that Toph had known the truth as well.

Sokka's face softened, and a mixed look of guilt, confusion and relief took over his face. Brown eyes panned from Sokka, to Toph, to Katara. He opened his mouth to apologize and try to explain, but Katara just shook her head, traitorous tears slipping down her cheeks. She smiled sadly and nodded; she understood. She understood, and this was good. He was dying; she was too overwhelmed with sadness to feel anger toward him.

Katara didn't take back her appreciation. When it came down to it, Jet had a good heart. Sokka took his sister's wrist and they turned to race after Long Feng. Aang and Toph followed at a run. The waterbender's mind churned the happenings of the last few minutes and she wondered on Jet's intention. He had meant her no harm, of course; the truth never would have come out if not for him. He had meant to save her from living a lie. More tears spilled, but she wiped them and prepared for combat.

Jet wasn't the father, true enough; but in those moments, Katara almost wished he had been.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I really hope I didn't screw this up. Anyway, there's no Zuko in this chapter, because there's some Zutara in the Crossroads of Destiny, which is coming up soon. I look forward to writing Azula; she's so fun to write. Review!**


	9. Panic and Protectivity

Sokka was taking avoiding his sister to a whole new level; of course he'd offered Katara the chance to see their father instead of him on account of the fact that they probably had a lot to discuss, fully knowing Katara would decline, not wanting to face her father just yet. She hoped Hakoda wouldn't tell Sokka just who her child's father was - the façade of Jet's lie had been shattered now - though she wasn't sure she really cared anymore about that.

She supposed finding Appa should've made up for a lot of the dark emotions swimming in her, and in part, it did, but she still mourned Jet's death, as was warranted.

Toph, the one person Katara could really trust, had gone to meet her mother in the city, and while she couldn't hold that against the younger girl, she missed her friend. Aang left to master the Avatar state with a spiritual guru, and Jet was dead, and Toph was away, and Sokka was avoiding Katara, and she was alone. Almost alone.

Perhaps being in solitude would've been easier, she supposed; the upper ring surrounding the Earth King's palace was filled with opinionated little bitches - Katara didn't pause anymore in keeping away from bad language when she was muttering agitatedly to herself - who had **things to say** about a barely-fifteen-year old entering her third trimester of pregnancy.

They'd say things like, "How could she **possibly** be a trustworthy ally to the Earth King when she can't even hold her own with a man?" and, "What kind of fool could she be? Every girl knows you make a man **marry** you before you **give** yourself to him …" and as desperately as she tried to drown their voices out, some got through and niggled at her.

But they didn't know anything about her, so why should she care about their snotty little opinions? They were nothing. They were insignificant little dolls in their expensive daddy-bought clothes, and they knew nothing about perseverance, or hardship, or responsibility, and they probably never would.

Katara supposed she should pity them, in that case. But she couldn't. She would instead feel that protective loathing she'd felt at the North Pole, as her bending sliced firebenders from their steeds, and bloody helmets rolled to the snow, heads still inside. Katara would quell this hate; push it down until it left her alone.

Momo kept her company, at the least, and it was somewhat comforting. The house in the upper ring was so quiet and empty with everyone gone that she didn't particularly like staying there when her duties at the Earth King's palace were over; it just reminded her how alone she was, and then she would feel lonely. Of course, when the burning pains came - usually in the night - Katara didn't need to stifle her cries while she tended to herself, and this she supposed was a good thing, in part.

So instead, Katara, the baby, and Momo, would go for a walk around the upper ring, trying to avoid 'The Ba Sing Se Etiquette Academy For Girls', where those snotty bitches hung around, since the dorm room for that school was just across the street from it. Of course she would almost always run into a band of them that had skewed from the herd - oops, sorry, other students.

Katara had spent a lot of time in a particular teashop run by the mother and aunt of one of those aforementioned bitches. It was generally quiet in there, aside from the three women murmuring under their breath to each other just within earshot about 'that trashy waterbender girl'. But on approaching this teashop one late afternoon, Katara spotted the girl from the academy talking to her aunt outside.

"It's that **damned** 'Jasmine Dragon', stealing all our business!" the aunt was saying, "How are **we** supposed to make a living?" she pointed indicatively down the street with a sour expression on.

The girl stamped her foot, "I just need some extra gold coins for this **dress**, Auntie, I **promise** to pay you back!" she whined out in the most annoying voice Katara had ever heard, and after that, she just drowned it out disinterestedly.

Katara's brow arched, and Momo chirped on her shoulder in a tone that sounded like a suggestion. The waterbender smirked to herself and continued right past this teashop in the direction that woman had pointed in. She'd be damned if she continued giving these women her money when all they did was share words about her behind her back. Ha! Not _**even **_behind her back!

The waterbender and the lemur moved down the street until they came to an open plaza with a reflection pond in the center, edged by multiple, rich-looking buildings with their large arched doors overlooking the pond. There were people milling about this plaza, some exiting the other expensive buildings - one of which was a spa - and Katara's blue eyes eventually settled on one building with a sign above the door, and tapestries hanging from it.

'**The Jasmine Dragon' **the signs and tapestries read.

Katara glanced to the lemur sitting on her shoulder. "What do you think, Momo?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but hearing her own tone coming off cautious. If this was the new hotspot, then there was probably a hell of a lot more of those academy girls in there than in the other teashop. She grimaced at the idea of being surrounded by those girls; having them all glaring and whispering and giggling nearby.

Momo chirped and tilted his head until he rubbed the soft spot of his head above one of his wide green eyes against her ear in an agreeable manner. It would have seemed the lemur liked the look of this new teashop.

With a moment's hesitation and a sigh, Katara pushed onward toward the 'Jasmine Dragon' teashop. How much worse could it be? She'd dug this hole for herself and if she wanted tea, she'd have to endure. And she really did want a nice cup of tea after a long days' worth of running errands for the Earth King's five generals, and the King himself. In a corner of her mind, Katara wished she'd been able to meet up with Suki, but she accepted that everyone was very busy.

Katara scaled the few steps up to the door of the grand teashop, and two women whose sole job was to greet and seat patrons bowed low to her, no hint of malice at all apparent in their demeanor. The two women stood straight again, and one smiled brightly at her. "Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon," she greeted cheerfully, "Table for one?" the woman suggested amicably.

A smile found its way to Katara's lips. She nodded and replied, "Please," Katara gave a shallow bow of her own, brows tilting at the politeness of these women. Wherever this shop had found these two had been far away from the etiquette academy; that was for sure.

"Uncle! I need two jasmine, one green and one lychee!" a familiar - familiar was an understatement - voice called across the shop, its owner thankfully not facing Katara.

Another, less familiar voice replied in earnest, "I'm brewing as fast as I can!" but Katara's head was already spinning.

Katara was first confused, and that hateful, defensive feeling she'd been feeling intermittently over the past few days, before fading back to fear. She froze where she stood, blue eyes fixed on Zuko's back. She could see the flesh of his scarred ear peeking through his short raven locks, and there was no mistaking that voice. There'd been a time that voice could've made her weak at the knees.

But now it made her feel sick - she took one step backward, and then another, and then she turned and she was running. She descended the stairs without a problem, and then her legs were pushing her away. The bulge at her stomach made running almost impossible, but she managed. Firebenders! Firebenders in Ba Sing Se! It was Zuko and his Uncle, in the Upper ring, less than a mile away from the palace!

All reason escaped Katara. She was scared and angry and confused, and she had to warn the Earth King.

* * *

><p>A day prior to the aforementioned proceedings, Zuko and his uncle had just been minding their own business, making tea for the good people of the upper ring. Zuko would still serve, even though they had servers for that, on account of the fact that throughout the day the place had gotten a little packed and an extra pair of hands had been needed. It truly was the best teashop in Ba Sing Se, Zuko had decided.<p>

He'd been able to grasp the idea of 'making a life' here on the knowledge that he was starting _again. _And that was okay. He needed a clean slate, he supposed, and he liked this. It was humble and modest, and yet money was rolling in like crazy; he hadn't been shopping himself, finding the practice tedious and boring, but his uncle had bought a ton of nice things for their apartment, and clothes for the both of them.

They had a good life here in the city.

Mostly, the patrons were high-class, older; around Iroh's age, but occasionally a family would come in for tea, and Zuko would find himself swapping tables with their server, just so he could study their habits. He found himself intrigued by his own actions, but he'd slowly stopped from berating himself for doing certain things. He didn't need to ask himself why he was so interested in children now; he already knew.

Because in some sense, he had a baby on the way. Though he probably would never lay eyes on that baby, he had to admit he both wanted to, and didn't. Something in him feared that some infanticidal urge would consume him on looking at his child - after all, he came from a long line of bad fathers - and he might want to kill it or throw it off a cliff or something. Yet, at the same time, he wondered in some small part if he could be the kind of father Iroh had been to Lu Ten growing up.

When he got to this point of contemplation, Zuko would get irritated with himself. It was just mindless daydreaming; the chances of either of those things happening were slim to none. He worked in a teashop in Ba Sing Se, and Katara's baby would probably be born on the back of a flying bison flying across miles of ocean, or some bullshit like that. He'd never see her again, and she probably never wanted to see him again.

'Probably' was an understatement. If she ever laid eyes on him again, it would be too soon, Zuko guessed.

A matched set of three girls from the etiquette academy took a seat at a booth table, and one of the greeter women waved Zuko over and directed him to them. He nodded appreciatively and approached the table. He smiled awkwardly and prepared himself to memorize their orders - paper was far too expensive to waste on orders. What paper they did buy was for writing letters - to nobody - and leaving notes for one another.

"Can I take your order?" he asked politely, tucking his hands into opposing sleeves - a habit he'd picked up from his uncle.

The girls all looked up to him with curious expressions. Zuko had to restrain a sour frown, as he knew they were looking at his scar. It wasn't all bad, of course; he got great tips for it, but it would be nice if he didn't always have patrons asking him where he got it. Of course, he'd just simply answer that a firebender had done it, and they would leave it alone and all start conversing about how terrible the Fire Nation was.

One of the girls made a polite little noise in her throat and then spoke up in a nonchalant tone. "We'll have four green teas, please," she smiled insipidly. Zuko had gotten this smile before - it was the polite 'I'm trying really hard to ignore that scar' smile. There were only three girls seated at the table, and so his polite smile softened to a look of confusion. "Our friend is on her way," she continued, at this.

Zuko nodded and stepped away. He turned toward where his uncle was brewing.

"Sorry I'm late, ladies," Zuko heard another insipid voice from behind him as he walked, "That trashy waterbender was at mother's teashop again and I just **had** to stop for a _chat_ with her," the voice rang out with a mischievous turn to it, and his attention was immediately pulled. The girls at the table immediately began talking excitedly, so Zuko could hear them throughout the whole walk to the kitchen.

"You're so bad, Yoma!" one of them giggled.

Another gasped a laugh and then looked to this 'Yoma' girl. "Tell, tell, Yoma! Spill the deets!" Zuko didn't know what 'deets' were, but he guessed they might be a shortening of the word 'details'. He refrained from groaning aloud.

His blood boiled; there was only one 'trashy' waterbender in Ba Sing Se at this sensitive point in time, and it was Katara. Zuko knew the Avatar was in the city; he himself had released their flying bison. He'd kept on top of the gossip, and had learnt how they'd overthrown the Dai Li and become the Earth King's most trusted allies.

How dare these pissy little bitches talk about Katara that way? He doubted any of _them_ had the gusto to leave home and fly across the world - pregnancy aside - to fight a hundred year war! Zuko repeated the order to his uncle, and waited for it, his ears still tuned to the girls' conversation.

"Well," Yoma began in her most posh and uppity voice, "I asked her how far along she was and she said she was entering her third trimester or whatever, and she was all touchy about it, because when I asked like, what the baby-daddy's name was she went all 'oooh back off, it's none of your business', and you know, I was just asking, right?" the Yoma girl tutted in annoyance and then continued, "Anyway, she got up to leave and I followed her and I asked her if her parents were happy about the baby …" she trailed off and grinned.

"Come on, quit stopping! Tell!" one of the girls squeaked in annoyance.

Zuko winced - he knew asking Katara that had probably hit a nerve.

"Okay, okay! So then she tried to water-whip me and she called me a 'nosy _fucking _bitch' and then she stormed off. Honestly, I was laughing so hard I was nearly _on the floor,_" Yoma smacked a hand to her mouth and then giggled again, obviously completely enthralled by the waterbender's bad temper and subsequently bad language. She'd lowered her voice conspiratorially at points when she had to repeat a swearword, breathy giggles to each part of the word.

Zuko's own temper was barely in check when his uncle put down the tray of the four green teas beside him. Zuko smiled reluctantly at his uncle, who shot him a look of pensive knowing, having also heard the conversation. The young man turned away from his uncle and carried the tray toward table where the girls were sat, his fake, polite smile gone; replaced by a serious scowl.

As he set them down in front of each girl, one spoke up.

"I mean, honestly!" this girl rolled her eyes judgmentally, "it's not like she didn't ask for it; I heard that they've got this technique at the North Pole that they use to end a pregnancy before it's even noticeable. She decided not to go for it, so it's her own fault whatever she gets."

The Yoma girl agreed. "I mean, she's basically asking for it, bringing that smut near people of _respectable _society."

Zuko stood over the table, the empty tray now hanging from one hand at his side. He drew a breath and then leant down to hiss threateningly, narrowed golden eyes panning from one girl to the next, "Obviously those 'people of respectable society' aren't as _respectable _as they think they are," he growled darkly in a lowered voice, and each girl in turn paled and stared at him, "if they can't help but from point fingers at someone who has it harder than them and still makes more of a difference in the world than they do."

He stood straight and watched, a slight smirk crossing his features.

The Yoma girl was the first to bounce back, "Yeah, right, like some water tribe slut could possibly be more significant than-,"

Zuko cut her off, his smirk widening. "I don't see any of **you** sitting at the Earth King's right hand side."

The girls all stared in horror, and then exchanged mortified glances, before falling into a grave silence. The Yoma girl shrank in her seat and grumbled.

Zuko turned away toward the kitchen, a smirk still stretched across his face. _'Agni, that felt good,' _Zuko thought to himself, smug self-satisfaction written all over his features.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Something light before Crossroads Of Destiny.**


	10. StarCrossed

Katara wondered if she was cursed or something, because things tended not to go well for her. She considered that maybe things might have gone easier if she hadn't given into temptation that night on the riverbank, but she held no regrets for that. The waterbender's fogged mind cleared enough for her to work through her recollections. She'd been running into the Earth King's throne room; and she'd seen Suki …

No. Not Suki. Princess Azula.

She'd run into the throne room warning the supposed Kyoshi warriors about Zuko and his uncle being in the upper ring, and then she'd paused, eyes widening in realization; beyond the face paint, those familiar golden eyes. Katara had thought in that moment that she _just couldn't outrun _those eyes, but then that circus freak girl had been jabbing her in pressure points, and she'd been headed downward …

And then the circus freak had grasped her clothes and set her feet into the ground to make sure she didn't hit the floor. Of course, confusion had enveloped the waterbender - why could the Fire Nation possibly care about letting her hit the floor? These were the kind of people who raided villages and murdered mothers and children; what reason could this girl possibly have for helping her?

The gloomy one, Katara remembered as she had faded into unconsciousness, had asked the pink one something, and the princess had spoken up, cutting the both of them off.

And now she was here. The waterbender could feel her hands and feet, and she could feel some kind of earth under her as she lay on her side on the ground. Blue eyes slowly opened and green light rushed in to greet her. Katara squinted and grunted in discomfort, as she propped herself up and moved to sit up.

Once she got into a suitable position, Katara looked around to recognize her surroundings as some sort of cavern; green, glowing crystals spurted from every corner of the catacomb, and she supposed she was underneath the city, in the ruins of the old city, beneath the new one.

The waterbender got to her feet, with some effort, and laid a hand on her middle, to be sure the baby had come away unscathed after the run-in with Azula and her cronies. The bump was there, as was a greeting sort of a kick that both reassured and haunted Katara. The baby seemed rather unperturbed, which aroused the water tribe girl's curiosity. Katara eventually decided that ignorance must be bliss.

After much pacing and worrying, the earth shuddered and Katara spun on her heel to see a spray of light shining at her from where a boulder was being moved to open the catacombs to the world above. The slope up to it was far too steep for her to try to ascend it - and she did consider it - and the two Dai Li agents she saw up there looked even harder to get by.

"You've got company," Katara heard one of the Dai Li sneering.

Then the two Dai Li agents worked together to shove a familiar firebender down that treacherously steep slope, and Katara felt disgust and anger and annoyance cross her face. Zuko tumbled down the slope in grunts and winces, before he came to a halt on the ground before Katara. First he groaned aloud, and then he pushed himself up on his hands and looked up.

His expression softened to a fearful surprise upon seeing her.

That spray of light closed up with a whine of stone on stone, and then they were alone.

Zuko got up to his feet and dusted himself off. He narrowed his eyes defensively at her. "What are you doing here?" he snapped suddenly, and dourly, hands dangling at his sides forming fists.

Katara opened her mouth to go on a ranting tirade of hate and vicious malice, before she shut it and then seethed at him. "I was going to ask _you _the same thing," she spat, crossing her arms across her middle - above the bulge of her belly, and below the swell of her breasts.

For a moment she felt guilty - she'd run at those impostors shouting that Zuko and his uncle were in the city, and now Azula had caught them too. Then Katara's reason caught up with her. This was just another trap to capture Aang; neither she or her child meant anything to the monster stood before her, and she was a fool to have believed otherwise. Zuko and his sister were probably working together, having betrayed the kindly old man Zuko traveled with in spite of the fact that Azula had shot him full of lightning only weeks earlier.

Zuko really was a monster, Katara told herself, and she promised she wouldn't make the same mistake she'd made on that riverbank again. She'd fallen for it once, but she was a little wiser now; a little more aware of consequences. The waterbender would not fall under his charming lies, or the façade of his painfully innocent and defensive gaze. He was a monster, and nothing else. She hated him for who and what he was, but more than that, for what he'd turned her into.

He'd turned her into a harlot, in the eyes of the world, and a killer. In other circumstances, Katara doubted she'd have killed in the Siege of the North, or sabotaging Azula's drill. But the urge to protect had skewed her perception; kill or be killed. He'd turned her into a monster, just like him. She had no regrets for the baby; she loved the child growing in her womb, more than she'd ever loved anyone before. However, she'd spent the last six months terrified of losing that love on account of the danger _his people _put her in on a daily basis.

And then there was Kya. The wonderful Kya who no matter what would've been cooing and fussing over a grandchild no matter who the father may have been, no matter how old Katara was, no matter whether or not Katara was married. She'd often wondered if after discovering she was pregnant, she'd have gone back home, South, to have the baby at home, in her mother's loving arms, if Kya had still been alive. Ha.

No, Kya would've taught her better than to do something stupid like the night on the riverbank.

"Great," Katara murmured indignantly, eyes narrowed at the prince, who still watched her with a mix of fear and wonder on his face. Gods, how she could wipe that stupid expression from his face. "Stuck miles under the city with _you, _of all people," she complained darkly, one hand unconsciously sliding to her belly.

"I didn't _ask_ to be here, if that's what you're thinking, waterbender," Zuko retorted, and then he laughed humorlessly under his breath, his old self returning, appearing through the foggy beginnings of this new form he'd taken. "I wouldn't even be here if not for you running around shooting your mouth off," he shot her a dark and serious look, though with a smirk underlying.

Katara's mouth opened to protest, but she stilled herself. So obviously he'd heard, while being dragged down here, that she was the reason his psychopathic sister had found him and captured him. No! No, he wasn't captured. Azula was using him as a pawn, no matter what he thought, and she had to be careful. Zuko would try to fool her, and she couldn't let him do that. She had to stay on her guard, no matter what. Katara just fixed her eyes on him, and glared as hard as she could.

That underlying smirk disappeared from the banished prince's face, and he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a sigh and looking around thoughtfully. "It looks like we're going to have to put our heads together to get out of this, enemies or not," he rasped in a tone of distaste, reached up with one dry and rough hand, and rubbed the back of his neck, golden eyes moving around the caverns in pensive consideration. The waterbender watched as he ran his gaze across their imprisonments.

Katara's face screwed up at the very idea of working with him, and she rolled her eyes as if his suggestion was pure idiocy; and of course, it was. It was stupid for him to even imagine that she would want to work with the likes of him. Was he blind or something? Could he not see the huge bulge of his child growing at her middle? Blind or stupid, Katara thought to herself; blind or fucking stupid. She'd tried very hard over the past six months to assure herself that the baby was her doing; her problem, her mistake, and hers to love and care for, alone. And in this moment, all Katara found herself wanting was for him to say a kind word, or something about the baby. An apology - an acknowledgment. Something. Anything.

Maybe this was just his way of trying to mess with her head. He knew she was going crazy trying to decipher what it was he was thinking in regards to their child; in regards to what had become of the night on the riverbank. Zuko just wanted to screw her over; to confuse her, and then make her get down on her knees and cry or something like that. He was a monster, Katara told herself again, just a heartless, cold monster who lived to cause her pain.

Katara turned away from him and squeezed herself discreetly, that hand on her stomach tensing protectively. What good would his acknowledgment do them anyway? They were fine on their own. Sure, she'd have liked someone to hold her through the terrible pains she felt on a nightly basis - literally, every night, as soon as the night fell the baby would be burning her - or someone just to tell those snotty bitches to back off every now and again ... but that wasn't him. It would never, ever be him. He was incapable of love, of care. These ideas of him that she'd make up in her head, well they were just fantasies. That was all they should ever be.

"Unless you're just going to wait for the Avatar to come and rescue you and land right in Azula's hands," Zuko spoke up from his spot behind her, in a sour and unfeeling tone that cut through Katara like a knife. _'Damn these stupid hormone,' _Katara thought to herself, her shoulders hunching away from him. Zuko sighed heavily. It was a tired sigh, like that of having traveled for days, and still have weeks more travel ahead.

Katara stayed silent, and only glanced over her shoulder to him, trying her best to stay detached. Getting her feelings involved would only make it worse when he attacked them later, when Aang came to get her out ... but maybe he had a point. Maybe if they got out now, Aang wouldn't fall into any traps, and ... No! Katara wanted to grab her head, but she maintained her facade of inner calm. Zuko was just messing with her. He was trying to goad her into working with him, so that he could get her on his side, just to fuck her over.

Zuko took a step toward her, but her eyes narrowed, and he stopped in his tracks, looking rather fatigued. "Look," he began awkwardly, and Katara caught the beginnings of a blush on his good cheek, and immediately saw a vulnerability - a weakness to attack. The best defense was a good offense, Pakku had once told her, and she planned to keep to that teaching.

"No, _you _look," Katara snapped sharply, turning around, her arms still wrapped around her middle. "Are you blind? Or are you just stupid?" she spat viciously, a poisonous glare settling on the surprised stare Zuko was shooting her way, looking completely baffled and abashed. Katara took this for a sign to go on. This was her chance. If she was ever going to get this off her chest, now was the time. They were alone, and she didn't have to worry about Aang or Sokka finding out, and she'd hopefully never see him again. "Why don't you take a good _look _at _me_," she set her mouth in a hard line, narrowed blue eyes piercing into his gold ones.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: PART ONE of the Crossroads of Destiny chapters, because I didn't want to cram the whole thing into one chapter :3**


	11. IllFated

When Katara's eyes fell on him, she caught Zuko watching her in the most peculiar way. His golden eyes were intrigued, interested, and his ears were perked to her voice. He paid his undivided attention to her. While his brows were furrowed, and his expression hard, in his eyes Katara saw no ill will, and his pose was defensive, rather than offensive. Katara couldn't place any of this, but she continued on, reluctantly.

"I'm having a baby," Katara drawled out, in a both incredulous and volatile way. She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, and then ran her tongue over he lower lip to continue. Zuko continued watching her in that intent, curious way. "I made a mistake, and I have to live with it." Now finding herself getting off-topic, Katara moved back to a blunt and simple fact to bring an abrupt end to this lecture, before she made an ass of herself. "You fooled me once, Zuko, and I'm not going to fall for it again, so you can stop trying," the waterbender grimaced and tore her eyes from him. She sensed he kept his eyes on her, and it bothered her.

Gah! Why did he get under her skin like that?

Zuko's good brow arched - she noticed because she looked back to him, to be sure he didn't try anything. "I'm not trying to trick you, Katara," he replied calmly, though every part of him screamed that he wanted to approach her. This unsettled demeanor unnerved Katara - she feared that he might draw close, and feared even more that she might _want_ him to come close. Zuko blinked a few times, his shoulders drooping somewhat, but still tense.

He was lost for words. What could he possibly tell her? It didn't matter; Katara had words of her own.

She scoffed a breathy, humorless laugh at him. "Right. And you don't want to capture Aang, either," she snapped sarcastically, and under the hand on her stomach, she felt the baby stir, and a quick shiver ran down her spine. Katara recognized it was rather cold in the catacombs, but she hadn't noticed until now.

"I don't want to hurt you," Zuko answered quickly, and then he stopped realizing how bad that had come out. Katara's gaze on him had become confused, rather than skeptic. His mind swerved this way and that in his head, but he found words spilling out rather quickly and uncontrollably. He cursed himself - sooner or later he'd say something to set her off if he kept on like this. He quickly continued, "I know that much. I'm at least half responsible for you now, and if I want you to get out of here safe, it's _not_ because I want to capture the Avatar."

Katara stared at him, desperately trying to look hateful, and failing miserably. She just stared, a blank expression on her face. He was lying! He was lying, dammit! He was trying to mess around with her, and ... Katara felt a lump knotting in her throat, and tears welling in her eyes ... and for some reason in fucking _hell, _he was succeeding!

Zuko watched her, stilled in his place. She eyed him with a blank, plain, emotionless expression on her face, and then her mouth did something strange - her lower lip quivered - and one hand came up. She wiped at one eye, and then the other, and Zuko realized that she was desperately trying not to cry. For a brief moment, he wanted to go to her, but he stopped himself. Whatever she was feeling, he was safer at a distance from her. But he still wanted to comfort her, in some way.

Katara drew a sharp breath, traitorous tears slipping down her cheeks as she pulled her hand away and spoke up again, this time her words tumbling over a lump in her throat that caused an abashed look to cross the banished prince's face. "You know, I was _fine!" _she snapped quickly, "I was completely fine with my friends, and you were gone, and I was almost happy again," she wiped her face again, with the cloth of her sleeve.

Zuko looked away, mulling this over. She continued.

"And then you just _had _to show up again," Katara finished dryly, giving a humorless laugh to the cruelty of the universe. Zuko's image of her in his peripheral vision was small and scared and angry and confused, and he remembered comparing her to him a few days ago. Alone. Afraid. Lost. "You just-," and then suddenly, she stopped, groaned out and doubled over, and Zuko looked up again to stare at her. She swore under her breath, something that sounded like 'oh for fuck's sake', but Zuko couldn't be sure that was that it was.

_'Great_', Zuko thought dryly to himself in the same sort of manner as that curse she hissed, '_perfect timing,' _and he stepped closer.

Katara, whose arms were held around her middle like a painting Zuko had once seen of a dragon protecting its young, took a stumbling step backward, forced herself to stand straight, and glared at him threateningly. Her eyes poured into his like lava, over the lip of a volcano, and just as dangerously. As if he hadn't got the message already, she felt the need to seethe out, _"If you come **near **me, I swear ..."_

And she winced again, hanging her head to try to concentrate on something else, but at the same time trying to keep a wary alertness on, to be sure the firebender didn't get any closer. Zuko watched her both in annoyed impatience, and in caring concern - it was a most peculiar mix of emotion to feel expressed on one's face, he noted in his mind. If she would just let him help her, she wouldn't have to split her attention three ways while pain spread through her middle. Zuko did realize, though, that she was putting up a remarkably good face about it; she was good at hiding it.

He then realized that she would _have to be, _in order to keep the child's true parentage a secret from her friends. If they even got a hint that it was a firebender, the only thing needed to track it back to him would be the logic of a ten year old, and that wasn't exactly hard to come by.

Katara murmured something - Zuko heard it, despite that he knew she hadn't wanted him to - as she cradled the child growing at her middle in her hands and absentmindedly began pacing, quite discreetly taking steady breaths. To the banished prince, it seemed the perfect opportunity to observe her habits.

Zuko's brow furrowed and he watched her pace back and forth for a moment before finding a crystal protruding from the earth, leaning against it, and lifting a hand to run over his chin. "I'm guessing you know what those pains mean," Zuko stated plainly, trying to feign disinterest in order to show her he had no ill intent.

Katara scoffed a humorless laugh. "It means she's a gods-damned firebender ... and she's trying to fucking kill me just like the rest of the fuckers we've run into," she snapped back, her words almost as volatile as the cold blue stare she shot him as she moved. The pains had steadily been getting worse over the months, and Katara didn't know if she could stand them any worse. The first pains had been bad, and she'd had to push them to the back of her mind to keep herself from panicking over them. She told herself if she couldn't take these pains, how the hell would she handle giving birth? That of course, was something Katara imagined her mother might have said to her.

Zuko did his best to maintain a cool, calm facade after this little potshot. "Well I wouldn't have put it so colorfully," he replied swiftly, and crossed his arms over his chest, watching her with interested golden orbs that looked like sunlight itself. Then, he decided, it would be easier to explain to her how to soothe it, rather than try to demonstrate; she was obviously not susceptible to that. "More specifically, it means she - we'll say 'she' because calling it an 'it' will get confusing - is resorting to her own inner fire for warmth."

Katara rolled her eyes as if she didn't honestly care for a biology lesson right now, much less from him. She had more important things to worry about. Then it began to make sense in her mind; of course, a firebender _would _use their bending to keep warm if they were cold ... and she stopped pacing and took the time to feel like a total moron. All this time she'd been drinking cold water and stripping down to cool off when the pains happened, and now she realized ...

"It's an understandable mistake," Zuko interjected, before she had the time to smack herself on the forehead.

The waterbender raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose, before shooting him a dark look, still hunched over from the searing pain in her middle. "How do you know all that? One doesn't just _happen upon_ info like that," she scowled at him, her voice dry and drawling sardonically. She wrapped her arms around her middle again; now it all made sense - the pains coming in the night, when the temperature dropped. Having them in the searing desert didn't make much sense, though. Her knees threatened to buckle and she took a sharp breath in surprise.

Zuko stopped and cringed at this question. He should've accounted for this, but hadn't. One might have said he wasn't exactly the best strategist or planner in history. He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and impartial. "I asked my uncle," he answered in a calm rasp that came off a little quick and desperate, if true. He decided he should be grateful that they weren't yelling anymore; they'd be stuck here for a while, so they might as well have made conversation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: PART TWO of the Crossroads Of Destiny chapters; because I think they had a lot more time than shown on-screen to talk about things. It makes sense in my head, anyway. Review!  
><strong>


	12. Tragic

Katara eyed him for a moment, felt a corner of her mouth twitch a smirk, then frowned again as another wave of pain washed over her and she grunted in discomfort. The water tribe girl started pacing again, and her hands discreetly rubbed at her belly to warm up. The pain seemed to be subsiding, slowly - 'slowly' being the understatement of the year. Her mind worked at this piece of information. That fact that he'd cared enough to ask his uncle about it, Katara supposed meant something. That perhaps she hadn't made the biggest mistake in the world that night on the riverbank. That maybe he was a half-decent guy.

"You're not going to get anywhere like that," Zuko spoke up from his spot across the catacomb, and Katara looked up to study his face for a meaning to that. What the hell was he talking about? Unlike _some _people, she wasn't exactly able to control heat in most forms, so like non-benders, she was reduced to seeking warmth from friction. Then he continued in a rasp, "Let me warm you up."

Katara's face contorted in horror at the very idea. "Keep dreaming," she retorted abruptly, with a grimace of pain, as she continued administering minimally warming rubs to her belly in an effort to warm the baby. The baby seemed completely unperturbed; no kicking beyond the regular amount, and no turning or rolling or anything like that, just content with burning the shit out his or her mother.

Zuko groaned aloud and pushed away from where he'd been leaning against the green crystalline growths of the catacombs, arms coming uncrossed from his chest as he approached her. She moved for her water skin, but it was too late; he was close enough to push her arm out of the way, and not a moment after that, she moved her arm back to rub her stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him, blue eyes fixed on gold, narrowed into hateful slits. Honestly, he answered in his head, he had no idea what he thought he was doing, but it felt in that moment to be the right thing. And that was what was important, right? Doing what he thought was right.

Zuko rolled his eyes at her. "Just stay still and shut up, waterbender," he snapped, stepping as close as he could and slipping his hands under her arms, pulling her back to his body by the smooth curve of hers, where he could feel her ribs under his hands. Then those same hands hovered on either side of the bulge where his child grew, and his mouth went dry as he imagined it; tentatively sliding his warmed palms around the smooth bulge of her belly and feeling his child growing under them.

Katara entered a fugue of confusion as the warmth of Zuko's body pressed against her back, melting through it to the baby, who was already beginning to calm at the distinct change in temperature. Blue eyes caught the tensing of Zuko's body as his rough hands hovered on either side of the swell of her pregnancy, and Katara felt a blush on her cheeks, as she imagined there might be on Zuko's. There was a moment of consideration, where Katara felt herself catch her lower lip in her teeth, and then she slowly took Zuko's hands and guided them to her belly.

This was beyond stupid, she told herself. And yet, it was at the same time the right thing to do, to her.

She swore she heard Zuko's breathing hitch in his throat as his fingers spread on the bump, and she felt his head near hers, hovering to get a good look. He wasn't particularly good and planning ahead, she noted; if he'd offered to warm her up and now frozen at the sheer _reality _of this baby. Of his baby. Katara's mind lingered on an insane concept for a moment, caught in the complete and utter lunacy of the moment.

_Their _baby.

Maybe, Katara thought meekly, that if they'd been different people - both of Earth Kingdom peasantry, for example, and older, naturally - that they could've made it work. They could have been the first ever people to have a baby and not be together, but work together. Maybe he could have had the baby every third day or so to take her, or him, to the market, or to work, or to a playground or something. The idea was certainly attractive, she decided, though impractical and impossible in this day and age. The world, she had learnt, was not happy with versatility where children were involved.

The world was mean and judgmental and cruel, and Katara knew this better than anyone else.

"How-," Katara heard Zuko speak from where his head was situated beside hers, and he paused awkwardly. There was an intense heat radiating from his good cheek where it hovered near hers, and Katara was comforted by this - that she wasn't the only one feeling insanely awkward about this. "How do you uh ... how do you know it's a girl?" he murmured nervously.

She tilted her head and shot him a look of confusion that made him look away anxiously.

"You said 'she', instead of 'it', or ..."

Katara's face softened and she blinked at him a moment, before actually working at what he was asking. How _did _she know it was going to be a girl? Crazy hormones? Even if it was a boy, it was her first pregnancy, so she _would _think any new hormones would be crazy. Then she reverted to Toph's reasoning; _'Only a girl could be this much trouble'. _Katara swallowed, "I uh ... I don't," she answered with an awkward smile, "Uh ... it's just that, uh ... it's just this thing Toph says."

Zuko arched his good brow at her, somehow managing to avoid eye contact at the same time. "Toph ... ?"

"The blind one," Katara looked away, then murmured, "Wow, this is awkward ..."

Zuko, who seemed to be a person full of surprises, laughed, and this time it was humored and amused. "No kidding," he answered at a rasp.

His laugh having calmed her somewhat, Katara relaxed into his chest, and the warmth it pushed into her shoulders. She was extremely tense; it was about time for another spa day - though preferably at a spa that didn't have their masseuses giggling and making snippy remarks behind her back - judging by the knots in her muscles and the horrid comfort eating she'd been doing lately. She nearly whined aloud; all that cocoa and sugar had just gone straight to her ass. She'd once had a very nice ass, full of life and perkiness, and now it was all tubby and fat.

Katara pulled a face, thoughtfully remembering the way her ass had once been.

At the way the waterbender leaned into Zuko, he relaxed too, a little bit. He was here, and she was okay with it, and this was all good - though he didn't know how long this would last. There was an unspoken agreement - he wouldn't attack her, and she wouldn't attack him - and somehow, he'd ended up in a position where he got to touch, effectively _hold _his child, for however long this would last. Zuko was unaware of when he'd grown a desire to have a child, but that was old news, and pointless; something he probably would never know, and something probably irrelevant. The point was that from the very first little bump against one of his fingers, Zuko fell in love with the child growing in Katara's womb, and as a result, a small part in love with her too. He felt a wave of gratitude to her, for everything she had endured to carry his child.

He'd heard about those 'new ways' at the North Pole, and that in theory, she hadn't _had _to carry this baby. She had _chosen _to have the infant, either on some moral compass-related reason, or because she just couldn't go through with it, but he felt a great urge to thank her for everything she had to listen to, and persevere through as a result of deciding to have his baby. He didn't though. Zuko knew that if he started getting all emotional, he'd never want to let go of her. He'd do something crazy like ask her to marry him.

And the haunting truth was that he was unsure about where he stood in the world; what his purpose was. What his _destiny _was. Where he was supposed to be, who he was supposed to be, and all questions between were _unanswered. _He had once found himself with the mentality of a wanderer, despite having a home and a job. It was like being homeless - to not know who you were or what you stood for was like homelessness, and it was a feeling Zuko despised. Why was he always so indecisive? Azula wasn't like that. Azula made all her choices before she even had the options laid out for her. Azula the genius. Azula the prodigy.

Another kick bumped another finger, and Zuko felt worse and worse with each moment Katara leaned against him, almost trusting him completely. He felt as though he didn't deserve this chance. Perhaps he didn't; he could have searched for her on learning that the Avatar was in Ba Sing Se, but he hadn't. He could've sent her a letter by hawk to keep them from knowing where he was, he supposed, but he hadn't. He could've done anything.

Just thinking these things seemed to remind Katara of them; of all the things that had gone bad for her as a result of this child.

"I don't know why I'm letting you just stand there," Katara murmured, her voice an almost-rasp from a dry feeling in her mouth. "The pain's gone," she grunted, and stepped away from him, and his hands slid from the baby's bump as she did so. Once she was far enough away - five feet at the least, she turned to eye him. He watched her with a dreary and disappointed look on his face, one that he didn't try to hide. "It's easy for you to rush in and give me a firebender-hug and then pretend like everything's fine, when it's _not._

"You have no idea how many different kinds of _hell _this pregnancy has put me through. Aside from the baby trying to burn me alive, I get cravings and cramps, and strangers telling me how _irresponsible _I am, and I get to be the burden that everyone else has to 'put up with' every time we stop so I can have a break, or every time I'm still hungry after all our food runs out.

"And aside from all the mundane shit, how about we talk about always getting my ass kicked by the Fire Nation because I'm afraid to push myself to my bending limit 'cause I'm afraid I'll hurt the baby, or every time a firebender knocks me about and I'm going crazy panicking about having a miscarriage!" she stared at him for a moment, huffing and puffing and then she threw her arms up and grabbed her head indignantly. "You have _no _idea what kind of shit I have to put up with! You have no idea how _hard _this is!"

She rounded on him and then spat out, her faced twisted in distaste: "I had to write to my father and tell him he didn't raise me right. I had to write to my father, who I hadn't seen in _three __years _that I'd gone out and done something stupid like get pregnant with a firebender's baby! I shamed my entire family the night I slept with you, and you shamed yours; but hey, so long as you get the Avatar and nobody finds out you did a peasant, who cares, right?" Katara joked viciously, her voice betraying a lump in her throat.

"My father won't write back. It's been three months, and he won't write back.

"Frankly, I don't blame him," Katara finished glumly, arms wrapped around herself again, her anger having faded into a depressed state of futility and shame. Why should she blame him, anyhow? She'd shamed their family, and their tribe. She didn't even know if when all this was finished, she would still have a home to go to, and that may have been the scariest thing of all; the idea of being fifteen, homeless, alone, with a newborn and no money to do anything for herself.

Zuko opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. What could he possibly say to her? What was there to say? She was probably right about all those things. Well, what did she want him to say? Did she want him to say he regretted everything he'd done with her? That he wasn't almost _happy _that she was having his baby? No. He wasn't going to lie about all that.

Then he spoke, and he spoke from the heart. "I'm sorry."

Katara's eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to yell at him again, but he cut her off.

"I'm sorry for the things that you have to deal with because of our child," he looked to the ground, thoughtful, and then he lifted his gaze back her her, his hard and unrelenting expression of 'I'm so badass' - the one he had put on a lot more when he had a phoenix tail - returned in the form of a deliberate and serious frown. "I'm sorry for that, but I'm not sorry for that night on the riverbank. And I'm not sorry for the baby itself. For those things I'm grateful."

Katara's prepared speech on his ignorance and stupidity completely left her mind. Maybe what he was saying was still stupid, but it was heartfelt and mind-numbing and she felt herself entering a kind of emotional tailspin. If he really was trying to mess with her head, he was doing a damn good job of it. First it started with the knotted lump in her throat, and then with salty tears in her eyes, and then her shoulders drew up and she hung her head.

She sobbed once, then twice, and then she was sobbing into him, and he was squeezing her in his arms, his own face screwed up in some kind of mix between confusion and frustration. Sweaty tanned fingers clenched on the thick fabric of his outer robes, and while one pale hand occupied the small of the waterbender's back, the other cradled the back of her head as she pressed her face into his neck and cried.

Katara told him she hated him, and she hated what he'd turned her into. Zuko just nodded and let her say what she wanted to say; to let her get it off her chest. She needed this. He'd let her do everything else alone, from start to finish, and if he could give her one thing she needed, this, he decided, should be it.

Zuko didn't know how long they stood like that, but it must have been a while, because neither noticed any kind of rumbling before the cave wall exploded toward them, and he threw his gaze toward the explosion in a panicked alertness. The rocks tumbled across the cave floor toward them, and the cloud of dust thrown up began to clear. Katara was still clinging to his robes, and his hand was still on the small of her back, as the cloud cleared and two familiar faces came into view. Things both made sense, and didn't.

Uncle! And ... and the _Avatar? _

Zuko guessed it made sense that the Avatar come to rescue the waterbender, and for Uncle to come for him, but ... but Uncle working with the Avatar! Gah! What the hell was happening? As if things couldn't get any worse - usually, for him, they couldn't - things rapidly began to deteriorate from the moment the Avatar first laid eyes on them.

A baffled and comically shocked look took over the Avatar's face, but there was nothing funny about it to the banished prince. "Zuko?" Aang yowled in amazement, horror, shock, confusion and a number of other words meaning a general air of 'what-the-hell'-ness. "_Zuko's _the- the father?" he stammered, his tongue tying itself into knots and his eyes wider than Zuko had ever seen anyone's. Zuko had to admit that the Avatar had some perception, because who could have guessed that Zuko was the father of her child just by them _standing _near each other?

Katara immediately went into a stupor, released the fabric of Zuko's robe and went to wipe her face, approaching Aang with a view to trying to trick him otherwise, but it was no use. "Wait, Aang, I can-,"

Aang stepped back and tilted his head, raising a hand at her. "Don't," he cut her off darkly, and then glared at Zuko, before looking back to her. "Let's get out of here first. Then we'll talk," he spoke in a dry and disapproving tone that Zuko half wanted to punch out of him.

Iroh shot the Avatar an undecipherable look, and then shook his head and gestured to one of the cave walls. "You must go and find your other friends. We'll catch up."

The Avatar nodded and bowed at Iroh, blasted another hole through the cave, and then grabbed the waterbender's arm. The two disappeared into the darkness, and Zuko found his eyes waiting on that hole where the two had fled through, as if Katara would return to him. Zuko shook his head quickly and glanced to his uncle.

"What are you doing working with the Avatar?" Zuko yelled at his uncle suddenly, gesturing after where the aforementioned had abdicated with his- er, with Katara. Dammit.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: PART THREE of the Crossroads Of Destiny chapters. Things get complicated next chapter.**


	13. Disclose

"Dad," Sokka spoke up, having fallen silent in sharpening his machete. Satisfied that it was sharp enough, he sheathed it and looked up to his father, who had been helping the other men load the mines onto the boats. The image of his father was moth reassuring and disconcerting; he met it with mixed emotion. Of course he was happy to see him - it had been three years since they'd been together - but he still had things on his mind.

Sokka wondered if maybe he should've let Katara come to see their father, but then again, they had no way to babysit her here. It sounded cruel, but they didn't let their women fight the war for a reason. Sokka would've hated to say he was of more use to them than she would be, but he'd have been correct to do so. And of course, there was that final complication.

He'd guessed this might happen - the very real possibility of Katara's letter never have made it to their father - but he hadn't said as much to Katara for the fact that, well … they didn't really talk all that much nowadays. Besides, she'd probably thought of it already, and might even have been relieved at the idea. Pushing the truth away, Sokka guessed, was probably a hard thing for his sister to keep doing; and it would probably backfire soon.

Except that now _he _had to be the one to tell their father his little girl was pregnant. _He _had to tell Hakoda he'd failed to protect his sister. He'd considered the idea that the letter had never arrived, but he hadn't considered that now he had to explain in its place. Or did he? Maybe … maybe if he just left that little detail out … No! What was he even thinking? Katara had meant to tell her father months ago, about the baby, and who knew when he would next have contact with his father?

No, Sokka would have to tell the truth - what little of it he knew.

"Ready to go knock some Fire Nation heads?" the Southern Tribe's chief approached his son, a small smile apparent on his face.

Of course, Sokka was only guessing still that the letter hadn't gotten here; he was probably right to assume that if the letter _had _gotten to his father, their conversation already would've turned to Katara, and Hakoda wouldn't meet him with a smile, rather than the well-deserved smack across the head that Sokka had half-expected upon arriving.

"Sokka?" Hakoda cleared his throat to gain Sokka's attention.

"Huh?" Sokka looked up again, and shook his head to clear it. "Sorry - distracted," he smiled awkwardly.

Hakoda exhaled through his nose and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Something on your mind, son?" he asked, tilting his head and smiling in a naïve, unknowing way that made Sokka feel like the worst son in the history of the world. How was he supposed to answer that question? His shoulder drooped and he hung his head.

"No," he began, then shook his head and met his father's stare with a hard one of his own. Hakoda arched a brow. "Actually, yes."

Hakoda nodded, looked away, then gestured toward the dying campfire. "Take a seat," he smiled thoughtfully, and approached the fire. Hakoda lowered himself to a log, grabbed a stick and stoked the embers, bringing them back to life. Sokka sat down adjacent to him and the two locked matching blue gazes. "What's up?" he asked casually, his smile daring not to falter. If the mood fell now, this happy reunion might be tarnished by the despair and sadness brought by war.

Sokka drew a heavy breath and twiddled his fingers nervously. "It's about Katara," he fixed his gaze on the embers before him, as they blinked to life, fire rising up and licking at the ash-covered, blackened wood fed to it. He fell into a pensive silence, gathering his thoughts and putting them into words. He could tell his wordlessness was bothering his father, but he couldn't risk wording it wrong. He hoped he didn't mess up - anymore than he already had.

Hakoda's expression softened in concern. "Is she alright?" he blinked, speaking earnestly. His eyes searched Sokka's, trying to decipher what it was the boy was edging toward, dancing around. Obviously something was wrong, and if he could just spit it out, he wouldn't have to sit around worrying like this. His chest had already tightened at the prospect of his daughter being sick or injured.

Sokka tilted his head thoughtfully, and his voice came out in a distinctly 'Err, uh, well, about that' kind of manner. "Not … not exactly," he looked away, avoiding his father's piercing gaze. How the heck was he supposed to put it? _'Hey dad, by the way, Katara's pregnant so you're going to be a grandpa! Isn't that great?' _Sokka screwed up his face, raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could almost feel his father's anxiety seeping into him.

At his words his father's brows shot up. "Well, what's wrong? Is Katara sick?" worry entered the older man's voice, and Sokka almost wanted to wince. Impatience had also entered the older man's voice, and Sokka didn't want to irritate him the first time they'd seen one another in three years.

"No," Sokka shook his head, and he felt his shoulders tense up. "She's …" Sokka paused and looked up and met his father's solid stare again. The teenager blinked a few times and sighed. "She sent a letter, she meant to explain it herself, but I guess you never got it," he babbled aloud, lifting the hand on his face to the back of his neck and rubbing nervously. Hakoda opened his mouth and gave a groan, as if he was next going to just growl out 'get on with it', so Sokka decided to jump to it.

Albeit rather unintelligently.

"Katara's pregnant," Sokka announced quietly, effectively cutting off whatever his father's next words might have been.

Sokka found himself rather impressed with how well he'd managed that; after all that dancing around the subject and awkward diversion, he'd managed to get the words out quietly, and keep them from anyone nearby. And now, Sokka mused glumly, came the interesting part. Hakoda stared right into his son's face with confusion washing over him. The lanky boy had never seen his father so … discomfited. Then again, the last time the two had held palaver, he'd been thirteen, still at an age where in his minds eye, his father knew everything and anything there was to be known. This strange look of confusion threw Sokka's own composure.

Hakoda's initial shock broke to momentary horror, before a sickening, humored smirk took his face. The older man doubled over … and laughed. He even reached over and clapped his son on the shoulder. He wheezed out a pure laughter that made Sokka want to scream - how he'd missed hearing his father laugh like that. After his mother's death, there had been few instances where it had occurred. "You …" Hakoda laughed out, wiping a tear from his eye, "… have an interesting sense of humor, Sokka," he bumped his chest, cleared his throat and suppressed the laughter until it was nothing. Hakoda looked up, fully expecting a smug smile on his son's face. Instead, he met a grave frown.

And then the two exchanged a stone cold stare that said all that needed to be said.

The chief of the Southern Tribe clapped a hand to his forehead, eyes going wide again and his mouth falling open. Sokka opened his mouth to try to explain as best he could, but Hakoda was already getting to his feet, bringing both hands up to the sides of his head and beginning to pace. "What?" he exclaimed loudly, and his feet began to push him in pacing ovals in the sand. The men loading the boats paused and turned in their direction, confused expressions all pointed at them.

Sokka swallowed hard, his brows tilting in defeat as he stood up. "I'm sorry, dad, I-," he was cut off when Hakoda turned and stared at him with terrified blue eyes. His words hitched in his throat.

Hakoda sputtered for a while and then shook his head stiffly. "Wh-," he paused, swallowed, and pushed his hair back gracelessly. "When? How? What the …" Hakoda's words came out in broken syllables and severed exclamations, and Sokka could tell that his father was struggling not to return to the disconcerting pacing. By now, both of the older man's hands were glued to his head, and he was staring at his son with imploring eyes, his mouth open to say something, but words beyond his comprehension in the moment.

Sokka decided it was best to explain a little more, as hard as it was with the fact that he didn't actually know all the details. "She's six months along now," he explained in a dry and powdery voice, with blue eyes on blue, staring, searching. "She tried to send you a letter, but it never got here. I'm sorry," he felt a lump forming in his throat, but swallowed against it. "I know I was … I was supposed to protect her, but … but I had no idea … I don't know when …"

Hakoda grabbed Sokka's shoulder in a rough way, and gazed at him with hard eyes. Sokka expected that smack over the head, but instead, Hakoda tugged him in for a hug. The teenager's eyes went wide with confusion and anxiety; why? Why on earth would his father hug him after he had _failed _so monumentally to protect his baby sister? He deserved a punch in the mouth, and a black eye to boot, but here his father was … hugging him. It made no sense, but Sokka had come to learn that very little made sense these days.

"I'm sorry, dad," Sokka repeated, as if to remind his father that it was his fault, and he opened his mouth to continue, but his father spoke.

Hakoda's voice came shuddery and unsure, but Sokka couldn't hold that against him. "No. Don't be," he squeezed his son and Sokka swallowed against the lump growing uncontrollably in his throat, "It's not your fault," he continued, and at that point, Sokka's calm façade cracked a little. "I know for fact that you did everything you could to look after and protect and teach Katara while I was away … and … what's important now …" Hakoda drew a shuddering breath and pulled away from Sokka, holding him at arm's length by the shoulders and swallowing hard, words tumbling over a teary knot in his throat, "Is … looking after her now, right?"

Sokka blinked for a moment and then nodded stiffly. "Yeah," he breathed. He raised a hand and awkwardly patted his father on the elbow, rather embarrassed for that scene. He looked out to the boats to see the other men moving along, trying their best to ignore whatever was going on between father and son. His father's grip loosened and fell away from him.

Hakoda lifted a hand and rubbed at his face, heaving a sigh. "So … I can safely assume you don't know everything?" he asked awkwardly.

Sokka nodded. "Katara won't talk. I mean, when she told us, she said it was uh … consensual," his voice fell quiet and one arm crossed his middle to catch the other elbow. He heard Hakoda choking, but he didn't (want to) know if it was because of what he had just explained; that Katara had given herself to someone at only fourteen, with no knowledge of the consequences or such. Sokka continued. "And she tried to lie about … who it was that … b-but anyway, that came to light and now, well, we don't really know who the father is."

Hakoda's brow arched and he looked away. "But you're her brother. You must have an idea about … who it might be," he trailed off and sighed at the awkward way his words were coming out. He was the chief of their tribe, for Tui's sake - he'd led men through the battlefield on many an occasion, without a trace of fear. He was the fearless Water Tribe chief of the Southern wastelands, and yet, here he was murmuring like a guilty child.

Sokka's expression hardened. "I have a guess, but you won't like it. I don't even like it."

"Let's hear it," Hakoda breathed out, eyes pointed downward.

"Prince Zuko," Sokka blurted tactlessly, and when his father looked up, he reinforced it with a hard frown.

Hakoda's eyes bulged in confusion. "The banished Fire Nation prince?" his words came out in a seething whisper, and he leant forward almost conspiratorially. "Firelord Ozai's _son?_" he shook his head, stretched his tense back and then blinked at Sokka a few times. "How? What the heck would make you think that?"

A look of suspicious pensiveness washed over the teenager's face. "I don't know for sure," he began, looking away. "But … it would make sense. The timing, the reason she would lie … and I'm her brother, and as such I _noticed _those little _looks _the guy kept giving her," Sokka made a face and stuck his tongue out. "And on top of that, there's the pains she's always trying to hide. I know what they mean."

Hakoda blinked at Sokka, understanding what he meant. "I hope you're wrong," he made a face.

Sokka sighed. "Me too," he agreed, and the two stood, ready to head in silence toward the boats to leave for battle. That was when the two heard the groan of a flying bison and turned toward it.

* * *

><p>"There you are, Azula!" Ty Lee yelped, cart wheeling single-handedly toward the Fire Nation princess, who had just finished directing the Dai Li agents toward the crystal catacombs she'd chosen as a replacement holding cell for the waterbender and her traitorous brother. Four Dai Li agents, all in their long robes that swept the floor as they moved, flanked the princess as she walked toward the acrobat. "I found something I think you should see," Ty Lee righted herself to an upright position and waved a scrolled letter in her hands.<p>

Azula waved the agents away, and they walked around Ty Lee, back toward the throne room. She wanted to see what it was Ty Lee had found in Long Feng's office. The Dai Li's former leader had intercepted letters of people all across the city, and beyond, and they had all just been sitting in certain safes, being kept for the right moments. Ty Lee had spent much of the day searching for letters to and from the Avatar's friends.

Ty Lee extended a scroll to Azula. "I found this in Long Feng's private safe," she explained earnestly, "That water tribe girl wrote it."

Azula raised a brow, took the scroll and began to unravel it disinterestedly. Her eyes ran over the words written in sloppy handwriting - she could tell the water tribe girl wasn't skilled with an ink brush - in studious sweeps, picking them up quickly. It was simply dull and predictable until her eyes fell upon a familiar name, and the corners of her mouth quirked up. Azula blinked at the paper, disbelieving of her luck, and then continued to read.

The water tribe girl's words became rather colorful - entertaining, even.

'… _Vile, disgusting excuse for a human being!'_

Azula reminded herself to use these insults on her brother later on - some of them were quite good. With the way the letter went on, Azula had half expected the waterbender to write in detail about copulations with Prince Zuko; of course, Azula would've skipped over this part. She was unscrupulous, but not perverted. But, the letter skipped over it for her, and ended with a bunch of humble apologies and begs of forgiveness and pleas, and Azula was eventually bored by it, so she rolled the scroll up again.

"Ty Lee," Azula took a step past the acrobat, who immediately began to follow.

"Yes, Azula?"

Azula tossed the rolled up letter back to Ty Lee as they walked. The brown-eyed girl caught it swiftly. Azula didn't even glance over her shoulder, holding her hands stately behind her back. "I'd like you to write a report on our findings and have it sent home."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is basically a peep into Sokka's perspective of the whole thing. I expected things to fall away from canon in the story, but not away from logic, and I accept that I've screwed up big time in some points. So, just to acknowledge some amazingly helpful critiques, I'd like to thank Kimberly T. and SG-Phantom.**

**I won't go back and fix the swearing in Chapter 12, but I can assure you I'm going to cut back on the swearing from now on. I've realized I'm falling out of character, and I'll remedy it as I can.**

**And yeah, it was a total cop-out, that thing I posted for Chapter 13 the other night. It was badly written, lazy and left out major elements of the basic plot, and I fixed it - hopefully :P  
><strong>

**I seriously hope this is better than that piece of crap I had up before. My brain is melting, for some reason. I must have writer's block. Dammit. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I would just like to confirm that I'm not copping out of the big fight scene coming up. I've written fight scenes before, and I can write one again.**

**I just need to, ah, keep reminding myself of that.**

**Don't forget to drop a review!  
><strong>


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